Cosmic Love
by StrawberryFields4ever
Summary: A collection of Captain Swan drabbles, one-shots and short fics, mostly out of Tumblr prompts.
1. Home

**prompt:** Emma and Killian's wedding. Requested on Tumblr.  
**A/N:** Fluff fluff fluffy fluff.

* * *

If there was something that Emma Swan hated, it was clichés.

That was why she had always hated those damn romantic comedies. It was always basically the same story, and no matter what happened, in the end the couple always ended up together. She could tell by her own experience that such thing did not happen in real life. Those were just clichés.

_Who would have thought that they would come true?_ She thought as she looked at her reflection in the tall mirror and placed a loose bouncing curl behind her ear.

She smiled at the image before her. Not because of the beautiful –albeit a little over-the-top; she was unable to control her mother on that – white silk dress that she was wearing, not because of the delicate silver tiara woven in her intricate hairdo that let a sheer veil fall from the top of her head and down her back. Because for the first time in all her life, she looked into her own eyes and didn't see a little lost orphan girl anymore.

She saw a strong woman who loved deeply and was deeply loved back, and who had finally, _finally, _found a home.

A soft knock on the heavy wooden door shook Emma out of her reverie and she turned around to see David walking in. She took in his appearance with a smile. With his white and gold embroidered vest, his beige trousers and leather boots he looked more like the king he was than any other time Emma had seen him in the two years that had passed since they had made their way back to the Enchanted Forest after the Wicked Witch of the East – Emma still had trouble stomaching that – had succeeded in destroying the town of Storybrooke. Thank goodness a new crop of magic beans, some water from the well in the forest and a lot of Emma's magic, along with a magic compass and an expanding spell to take the entire town on board the Jolly, was all they had needed to open a portal and make their return right before the cursed town blew to dust.

"Wow, Emma," David breathed, his eyes drinking her in with pride and awe. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you, dad," she replied, feeling instant heat in her cheeks.

"Are you ready for this?"

"I think it's a little late to ask that," she laughed.

"You know what I mean," David said with a soft smile. "When I was going to marry your mother I was bloody terrified."

"He really rubbed that off on you, didn't he?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her father shrugged. "What can I say? He's my mate."

"No, I'm not nervous," Emma said softly, answering her father's previous question. "Not really. One would think I would be about to run off, right? But I feel oddly calm."

"You know you are doing what will make you happy," he commented, voice tinted with understanding.

"Exactly," she said, a smile unconsciously breaking in her face.

Over a decade of confining her feelings to the deepest, darkest part of her soul, of not allowing herself to be ruled or even influenced by them, all gone to hell the moment her eyes locked with his sea-blue ones. She internally chuckled at the thought that the instincts she had developed during those lonely years would have screamed at her current white-dress-wearing-and-roses-bouquet-carrying-sel f to ditch everything and run away to the furthest corner of the land, but she knew better now. This felt _right_.

"Although wearing pants or a less puffy dress would make me even happier," she joked, earning a laugh from David.

"Don't let your mother hear that or she'll disown you."

At that moment, the clear chiming of bells and the deep melody of an organ leaked through the closed doors to their resting room, and Emma let out a long breath.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"Yes." He approached her and offered his arm to her. "I cannot even find words for how proud I am of you, sweetheart."

"Thank you, dad."

He opened the door and they made their way through the bright corridor of the castle leading to the main room, where everyone was waiting for them. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest at the sight of the beautifully decorated space that was full of familiar an unfamiliar faces, all in their best formal attire and looking at her with expectant, soft and happy faces. For a second, she felt overwhelmed, so she focused on the red velvet carpet covering the aisle. This was too much, maybe they should have ignored Snow and run off to have a private ceremony, maybe she would faint and make a fool of herself, maybe...

Her eyes looked up and found Killian waiting for her on the other side of the room, and she knew that everything would be fine.

The sight of the mixture pirate and nobleman in front of her made her smile widely. His hair was neatly combed to the side, but he hadn't bothered to shave –not that she cared. He was wearing the cream and blue uniform of her parents' Royal Navy (of which he had been named Captain upon their arrival to the Enchanted Forest), but he still had his pendants, earring and silver rings on. The kohl was gone, too, but his eyes and his smile showed the ever-present adoration and love he felt for her.

Next to him, Henry was standing straight, with a solemn and adorable expression on his face. He was also grinning at her and when he caught her eyes, he gave her a small nod and a thumbs-up. Emma felt her a little bit teary at the sight of the two men of her life there, and suddenly she felt the urge to run, to get closer to them as fast as possible.

When they finally stopped in front of the altar, David squeezed her hand before releasing it and kissing her on the cheek. Emma felt another warm hand replace her father's and turned to Killian, who was now holding her hand with the most delicate touch.

An old man in front of them started talking, but she didn't listen. She couldn't, not when her five senses were focused on the man before her, the beautiful man who made her feel so complete, the man who was her true love.

"Do you want to say your own vows, Killian?" the priest asked, interrupting her silent admiration of her man. Killian nodded and cleared his throat.

"Emma, love," he started, and his voice was like a caress to her soul. "As much as you want to deny it, you are the Savior. You are _my _savior. You saved me, Killian Jones, from the depths of an ocean of despair, pain and hatred, and you brought me to a safe shore where the man in me was reborn and the revenge-driven Captain Hook was no more. And you did it by being who you are, a patient, challenging, loving, brave, strong, stubborn, magnificently beautiful woman. By the gods, I know not why you would choose someone like me when you deserve so much better, but believe me when I say that I promise to spend the rest of my days making you not regret that choice and giving you all I have to offer, and loving you with every fiber of my being."

"Emma, would you like to say your vows to Killian now?"

She hadn't even realized she was weeping until she tried to say his name and her voice came out strangled and weak. Killian lifted his hand to gingerly wipe away the tears, and this simple gesture was enough for her to regain a little of her composure and go on. "Killian, considering how well you know me and how you can read me like a book, I am surprised that you got one thing wrong. I don't deserve much better than you. I deserve you, just as you are, a strong, loving and determined man who let go of his life purpose to help me when I needed it the most. A man who never failed to stand by me, help me and support me, who would never let any danger befall on me or my family, a man who loves me just as much as I love him. As I told you a long time ago, we understand each other. We _are_ each other. We are soulmates. I have rejected that idea for so long, until you came along and change me, made me a better person. I love you so much, Killian Jones, my partner in crime and from now on, my partner in life."

His hand trembled a little when he placed the thin golden band in her finger. Hers were steady as a rock when she gently grabbed his reattached left one and caressed the palm as she placed his ring where it belonged.

He whispered "I love you" against her lips before kissing her fiercely, mindless of the hundreds of people staring at them; and she could taste the promise, the commitment, all the love in the world in his soft lips.

When they finally broke apart, they faced the whole kingdom cheering at them and clapping enthusiastically. As they made their way up the aisle hand in hand, she caught sight of Snow, looking striking despite her reddened cheeks and falling tears, Regina and Robin rubbing the former Queen's swollen belly at the same time, and Neal, with a soft smile on his lips from his spot in a corner of the room.

As soon as the doors closed behind them and they were alone in the castle corridor, Killian wasted no time in picking her up and twirling her around, a joyous chuckle escaping both of them.

_This is it,_ Emma thought.

This was home.


	2. The test

**Summary:** Killian is torn between telling Emma the truth or keeping it to himself; and they receive a surprise visit at the camp that makes both him and Emma admit certain things to each other.  
**A/N:** the original prompt I received was that Neal came back to their camp and Killian feels that Emma regrets their kiss; I changed it a little bit to adjust it better to the end of 3x05 and the spoilers for 3x06. Oh, and I forgot to say, that if you have any prompts or ideas, you can totally send me a PM! And thanks so much for the favorites and follows!

* * *

He knew that Pan had put him in a lose-lose situation, but he hadn't expected it to have affected him so abysmally. After the little demon had vanished away, he remained sitting in the fallen log, cradling the ancient rum bottle in his only hand, and weighing his options.

Telling Emma and blowing up any chance he could have with her. Not telling Emma and wait until she found out by some other means, if she found out at all, which also resulted in him blowing up any chance he could have with her, but with the disadvantage that she probably would never forgive him if she discovered that he had known and kept it from her.

Either way, the brief flame of hope that she had ignited in him with her smiles, her huskily-whispered words, her lips insistent and delicious and intoxicating on his would disappear in the blink of an eye. This seemed to be his cursed fate: losing everyone that had meant something to him, being unworthy of love. His parents, his brother, Milah, Bae...and now Emma.

Damn that woman. Damn her for reducing him, the fearsome, ruthless pirate captain to a weak buffoon that would gladly jump from the top of Skull Rock if she asked him to. Damn her for making him decide to throw away several lifetimes driven by one sole purpose and venture into his own personal hate with his own personal enemies. Damn her for making him believe that maybe, _maybe_ Captain Hook was bursting in the flames and Killian Jones had reborn from the ashes. Damn her for making him want to do the right thing.

And the right thing is what he was going to do.

Feeling the weight of his almost four centuries of age on his shoulders, he got up and slowly walked his way to the spot where Emma was trying to sharpen the blade of Bae's sword with a rock. She froze for a second when she noticed him approaching her, but then continued with her task without even lifting her head, but her movements had become a little brusquer.

"We need to talk, Swan."

"No, we don't," she replied with a sharpness in her tone that made Killian's chest ache.

He figured she would try to refuse to acknowledge what had happened between them, but if she reacted so adamantly about it now, what would she do after she found out Neal was alive?

_Man up, mate, she deserves to know._

"It's not about that," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then what?"

He let out a long sigh. "Pan. He visited me and gave me a piece of information."

Now she seemed interested. Her head whipped up and her determined eyes locked with him.

"Was it about Henry? What did he say?"

"It's not about your boy. It's about Neal. He said he is alive and here in Neverland."

He saw the emotions racing through her face. Shock. Disbelief. Realization. Relief. _Pain._

Minutes ticked by slowly as he waited for Emma to say something; anything.

"Could it-" she said suddenly, voice raspy. She cleared her throat before beginning again. "Could it be a trap? That he is playing with us?"

"He's a manipulative little bastard, but he's no liar, trust me on that."

"On that, I agree," said a disgustingly familiar voice behind them.

Both of them turned around to see Rumplestiltskin standing calmly a few feet away as if he had never left them to begin with. There were dark painted marks on the Crocodile's face and he was cradling a large piece of cloth in his hands.

"The hell are you doing here?" Emma exclaimed, instinctively standing up and lifting her sword.

"Now, now, Miss Swan, I know we did not part in the best of terms, but I came back because we now have another interest in common. I assume you want to retrieve the father of your son from the Lost One's imprisonment, right?"

"How do you know they have him?" Killian asked.

"Him and I worked together momentarily upon his arrival on the island," the imp said, nostalgia and regret coating his voice. "We even succeeded in getting Henry, but upon a misunderstanding caused by Pan's meddling, Bae decided to part ways with me and take Henry with him. I found his jacket lying on the ground," he lifted the lump in his hand. "I'm afraid they got caught."

"Neal could rescue Henry?" Emma asked with a thin voice. Killian knew she was hating herself for not being able to come near her son in days, and judging by the look on her face, it broke her heart that Neal had managed to get to him earlier, despite the unfortunate consequences.

"He wanted to bring him to you, but I reckon the Lost Ones got them first," the Crocodile said. "I can place a tracking spell on his jacket and get to him, but I believe that after our last encounter, he would not be so happy to see me. That is why I'm resorting to you, Miss Swan. I know you will do it because you love my son."

The words were like a blade through Killian's chest, and he could not handle looking at Emma's vulnerable face and receiving confirmation of the imp's words.

"Let's go tell the others and make up a plan," was all her answer.

Hours later, Emma, the Charmings and Killian were following a floating jacket through the forest –How bloody ridiculous was that?– while Regina and Rumplestiltskin left off to attempt a magic sneak attack at Pan's camp.

"There's one thing I still don't get," Emma commented after a long pause.

"What is it?" Killian asked.

Emma looked ahead at their parents' backs and waited until they were far enough to answer. "Why would Pan tell _you_ that Neal is alive? I mean, I know you spent a lot of time with him when he was a kid, but still..."

"I do believe he was trying to test my good form, love."

He looked at the path ahead but could feel Emma's eyes burning holes in his head.

"He didn't think you would tell me," Emma whispered, and he turned around to see realization dawning on her face.

"Aye," he replied dryly, nodding and moving forward a little faster; desperately wanting to get out of this unsettling feeling of vulnerability that only Emma could bring out from inside him.

"Thank you for telling me."

He paused and turned around, finding a barely-there smile on her face. To hell with ruining his hopes of being with her. To hell with her imminently finding a very much alive Neal and forgetting what had happened between them. To hell with the fact that she was probably already regretting taking his bait and kissing him. He needed to let one thing very clear.

"Emma," he started, closing the distance between them. "I know this is not the most appropriate of times, but I want you to know that despite this turn of events, what I feel has not changed, and it probably won't. I will fight by your side to get your son back, as long as you want me to. The choice is yours. If you want me away, I will follow your command regardless of how much it would pain me."

Damn Emma Swan. Damn her and her grey-green eyes that seemed to be reaching the deepest part of his soul. Finally, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, the brush of her lips as burning as when they had made contact with his own lips.

"I don't want you away," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. "Now let's go, we are falling behind."


	3. Don't follow

**prompt:** Hook doesn't listen to Emma when she tells him not to follow her.  
**rating: M**

* * *

What the hell had she done?

And more importantly, _why_ the hell had she done it?

Emma tried not to think of the obvious answers to the questions her mind was yelling at her as she wobbled through the thick plants, as far away from the camp and from _him_ as she could without it being too dangerous. She needed a time out. She needed to take a deep breath and regain some composure before facing the group again.

Because, damn, her plan of unsettling him and wiping that shit-eating smug grin from his face had backfired horribly.

She still felt the burn on her mouth from the scratches of his stubble, the taste of him in her tongue, her every nerve tingling, screaming for attention, craving more.

It had been an awfully long time.

She stopped and rested against a rough tree. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to try to calm her racing pulse, but it did her no good as the only thing she could see through her closed eyelids was Hook's face impossibly close to hers, his lips glistening and swollen, the pink on his cheeks...

Without her noticing, her hand started to caress her stomach lazily, and at the thought of the pirate, it slowly moved lower, inch by agonizing inch.

Just as her fingers were about to brush the skin right under the waistband of her underwear, she heard leaves rustling and her eyes shot open. Seconds later, she saw a dark figure coming her way, wrapped in heavy, black leather.

"Dammit, Hook, I told you not to follow me!" she hissed, unsure of the strength of her voice.

"You told me to wait five minutes, I counted them," he replied, and even though she could not see his face, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Look at you, the loophole finder," she said, dripping sarcasm. "I don't want you here."

_Yeah, right._

"Is that so?" He stepped closer, until there were just mere inches between them.

"Why did you follow me?" she whispered, looking at everywhere but his face.

"Emma," he breathed, his hand coming up tentatively to stroke her cheek. "You should know by now that I would follow you everywhere, always."

She looked up and her eyes found his bright blue ones, and she knew she was done for. The last of her resistance crumbled to pieces at the sincere expression in his face and, for the second time, she yanked him towards her and crushed her lips against his.

Unlike their previous kiss, now he wasn't taken by surprise, so he was quicker to respond, wrapping his right arm tightly around her waist as her own hands tangled in his hair. He moaned in her mouth and his tongue found his way in, exploring her. Emma whimpered and pressed herself closer to him, feeling every inch of his hard body, and his rising erection against her leg.

All she could feel was fire, fire, fire...

It _really_ had been an awfully long time.

His mouth left hers in favor of her jaw, her neck, her ear, and all she could do was cling to him for dear life and bite her lip to avoid screaming. She noticed that he was keeping the arm with his namesake limp by his side, so she grabbed his forearm and gingerly placed his hooked arm around her waist as well. At that, he stopped his ministrations and pulled back to inspect her face with a questioning look. Emma nodded and offered him a small smile. Hook groaned low in his throat and attacked her skin with his lips with desperate, almost brutal force. And she fucking loved it.

Everything was a blur for Emma until suddenly she found herself lying on the ground over Hook's big coat, his weight pleasantly pinning her down as her hands sneaked underneath his thin shirt and explored the muscles of his chest and back. She squealed when he lifted her shirt and her mouth attacked one of her breasts as his hand was busy with the other.

"Please, Hook," she pleaded, hating herself for it, but unable to take her shivering any longer.

"Are you completely sure, love?"

"Yes," she rasped. "I need this. I need _you._"

At that, his hand left her breast and moved lower to pull down her trousers and panties. His fingers stroke her bundle of nerves a few times and she involuntarily buckled her hips up. Cursing, Hook lowered his own trousers and she barely caught a glimpse of him and his size before he aligned himself and slowly pushed in.

They gasped at the same time, Hook's forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling, both of them taking their time to adjust and to really comprehend what was going on.

They could get caught by her parents, by Gold wandering about, by Lost Ones, even by Pan himself. This was stupid, reckless, wrong. Yet, the only thing Emma could bring herself to care about was that he needed to start moving inside her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him to her, conveying her message. Soon enough, Hook set up a fast and hard pace that had her gripping at the leather coat for balance, mouth open in pleasure as tiny gasps and moans left her lips, spurring him on.

She had never felt this sense of urgency, of need, for anyone before. But then again, Hook was not just anyone. He filled her completely; she felt whole, ecstatic, powerful as he pounded in and out, in and out.

Long minutes or maybe just a few seconds later, her world exploded as her orgasm hit harder than ever; her whole body trembling and squirming and her teeth drawing blood on her lip she was biting it so hard to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs. She was still riding the last waves when she felt him still inside her. With a low curse, he buried his face in the crook of her neck as he came inside her.

"We...we should get back before they find us like this," Emma said after a long time, once she regained the ability to speak.

Hook softly kissed the spot right above her heart as his hand caressed her side.

"As you wish."


	4. Thinking spot

**Prompt from Tumblr:** Emma often sneaks onto the Jolly Rodger after returning back from Neverland just to think. Killian finds her one time in the crows nest and joins her. They talk about the kiss (Maybe they kiss again...? :D) and then improvise because these two are awesome doing whatever :)

* * *

Emma sighed before making her well-known walk through the docks until finding the big ship resting calmly in her harbor -she wasn't really hard to miss, she was about five times bigger than all the other vessels around. The air was colder in the misty area by the sea, illuminated only by a bright full moon, so she pulled her red leather jacket tighter around her as she walked up the gangplank. As silently as possible, she made her way to the huge net made of ropes and started climbing it.

She knew it was wrong to break into someone else's home, especially for her, being the sheriff and the face of the law in the small Maine town, but ever since their journey back to Storybrooke, she had found that the Jolly was the place that calmed her the most. Neverland had taken her toll on her, and it had taken it bad. Learning that his father was actually doomed to spend eternity in that hellhole or die automatically as soon as they made it out of there; finding Neal alive, with his empty love promises and darker ways that she had ever imagined of him; dealing with Pan and Rumplestiltskin and that creepy-as-hell Shadow; almost exhausting all the magic within her to break Pan's curse on the island and end the darkness in it; convincing Henry that he wasn't a Lost Boy; and finding the necessary pixie dust to fly back to this realm with Tinkerbell, Felix and _freaking Wendy Darling_ on tow...you couldn't really blame her for wanting a break and yearning for some peace of mind. Normally, Kil-_Hook_ would have offered her a swig of his never-ending rum, but they hadn't really spoken after their kiss, except for his telling her that Neal was alive. Afterwards, they hadn't really had time to dwell on it with Gold's surprising return to them and their final battle with Pan and the Shadow.

They had returned to Storybrooke three days before, but he remained distant and serious. Even though she could always find his eyes burning holes in the back of her head, still in Neverland and now here too, Emma found herself missing his smirk and his inappropriate remarks, his rum and his company, his support and appraisal. She hadn't really realized how much she craved them until she lost them.

The first night back, she couldn't sleep. Images of Henry running away from her claiming that he was a Lost Boy and that they had abandoned him, of Mary Margaret's horror-stricken face when David told her that he had to stay in the island or else die on the journey back, the Shadow attempting to kill Killian until she sent it away with an unexpected beam of magic; all those images invaded her mind and kept her from the blissful oblivion she longed for. She got up and wandered around town, letting her feet take her, mind numb, and she couldn't say she was surprised when she saw that they had taken her to the helm of the Jolly. She didn't want to go down to the bunks so as not to wake Hook, especially when he was still giving her the cold shoulder, so she sat on a crate on deck and relaxed as her mind wandered.

She woke up two hours later feeling completely refreshed and left quickly before Hook noticed.

After that, she had spent a few hours on the ship every night, with the only company of the sea breeze and her thoughts. And tonight was no exception.

She reached the crow's nest and settled there. She saw a lump on the floor. It was weird, she had climbed it the night before and it had been empty. Emma cautiously approached the soft strange lump and her heart twisted in her chest at noticing that it was a thick blanket. She sat down and took the cloth in her hands.

Of course he had known. When it came to her, it seemed that he _always _knew.

She wrapped the blanket around her body and warmth immediately invaded her, and not only due to the extra layer of clothing. Suddenly it clicked on her that Hook was not avoiding her like the plague; he was trying to give her space to figure things out, with Neal's heated declarations of love that she really wished he had waited until they were alone to say and his constant presence due to Henry wanting his dad around. And even when Hook wasn't talking to her, he was always taking care of her.

About forty minutes later, Emma heard a soft grunt and steps behind her. She kept her eyes on the black horizon as Hook accommodated himself beside her.

"Took you long enough to come up here," she commented nonchalantly.

"Well, lass, let me tell you that climbing up that net with a hand and a hook is bloody damn difficult."

Emma laughed softly, a feeling of pleased familiarity settling within her. This felt nice... and _right._

"Care to tell me why you have been so rudely intruding my ship for the last few days?"

She sighed, still not facing him. "I just...I needed some time alone. This is the only place where I can do some peaceful thinking."

"Aye, I know that feel," he said so softly she almost didn't hear him.

"What about you?"

"About me what, lass?"

"Clearly you've known all along that I come here," she said, pointing at the blanket she was cuddling under. "Why only show up now?"

Hook looked down and scratched the back of his neck –she noticed he did that often when she unsettled him– before directing a mischievous smile to her.

"There are only so many days I can go by without being around you, love."

Despite the carefree tone, the sincerity in his voice was more than evident. Suddenly Emma felt it was too hot in the cold crow's nest.

"Have you found your meditations here successful?" he asked when minutes ticked by and she still hadn't found a proper reply to his comment.

"Actually, yeah." Emma rested her head against the mast. "I know it's all over, but it's like my brain refuses to believe it yet. I know Pan won't come after Henry anymore, but here is the only place I actually feel safe."

"Emma," Hook replied, turning to her and with a serious and determined expression in his features. "It is over, Pan, the Shadow and Neverland are now but a bad memory that will soon fade. But I promise you, should any other danger fall upon you or your loved ones, I will fight by your side, no questions asked."

Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest and treacherous tears welled up in her eyes. He really meant it. He really cared. And she cared about it and about him way more than she had first wanted to admit.

"Do you want to share the blanket?" she whispered, not trusting her voice.

His eyebrows shot up and he blinked twice before giving her a hopeful small smile and a quick nod. She promptly moved closer to him and threw part of the blanket on his lap and legs.

They stayed in comfortable silence for a while. Emma relished in the recovered closeness that she had inadvertently missed so much.

"Thank you," she said softly, out of the blue.

"What for?"

"Everything. Helping me get Henry back, keeping me sane in that damn island, giving me space when you sensed that I was overwhelmed and needed it. You know, at first I thought you were mad at me or something for ignoring me, but now I understand."

"Oh, so you spent an awful lot of time thinking about me, didn't you, dear?" His chest vibrated with his chuckled, and Emma could feel it send shocks of electricity through her entire body.

"Shut up," she protested weakly, letting her head fall on his shoulder.

He froze for a second before relaxing, his head resting on top of hers. "Well, you saved my life from the Shadow, I guess that makes us even?" His hand found hers under the blanket and he tentatively grabbed it, his thumb caressing her palm. "The truth is, darling, that at first my intentions were far from that. I wanted nothing more than to have your presence around all the time, especially after our little rendezvous," he wiggled his eyebrows, "but our quest took an unexpected turn of events right afterwards. _Bloody Pan_."

It was the first time either of them mentioned their kiss, but it wasn't awkward as Emma had figured. Quite the opposite, actually.

"I told you you wouldn't be able to handle it," Emma smirked triumphantly.

"You were not immune to it either, dearest. I distinctly remember your step faltering once or twice as you made your way to the _opposite_ direction of the camp."

_Dammit._

"We can call it a tie," she proposed.

"Aye, that is fine. For now."

She lifted her head to look at him and found him watching her intently with his bright blue eyes. His hand tightened around hers when she moved forward and kissed him for a second time. Unlike the first, this one was slower, softer, but just as passionate. Their lips moved in complete synchronization, mouths opened, tongues explored. His hand left hers to grip her waist as she framed his face with both of hers and poured all her gratitude and affection.

When the need for oxygen could not be postponed anymore, Emma softly pried her lips apart from his and moved them to his hot cheek. She opened one eye and saw that his eyes were still closed, his cheeks were flushed and his breath was coming out ragged and shallow.

She smiled against his skin.

"Emma, 1. Killian, 0."


	5. Under your spell (1-3)

**A/N:** Yet another CS/Harry Potter crossover. Three-shot. Fluffy.

* * *

Emma rushed into the classroom and sat down on the last desk so abruptly that it was a miracle she didn't step on her robes and make a fool of herself. Snow, who was already sitting next to her with her books and quills neatly organized on the desk, put her hand on Emma's back reassuringly, helping her even her breath. The professor was nowhere in sight yet, but after six years, Emma knew that didn't really mean that you were out of trouble for being late. She looked around the classroom and spotted the striped cat perched on the top of a tall cupboard.

_Fuck._

As soon as the cat's eyes connected with hers, it jumped forward and transformed mid-air, landing gracefully on the ground as the stern McGonagall.

"Thank you with gracing us with you presence, Miss Swan," she said sharply, and Emma felt her cheeks blush.

"I'm sorry, Professor. Peeves flooded the hall of the second floor and I had to take a detour."

"Alright, you are excused this time. Now, as all of you are here, I'll team you up in pairs to practice what we learnt last class about the most difficult aspect of Transfiguration: the alteration of human appearance."

There were only twelve students from all the four Houses in the sixth-year Transfiguration class, as achieving the OWLs qualification required to move on to the NEWTs level was particularly hard; and Emma was extremely proud of being one of the few students who had succeeded. Transfiguration was her favorite subject.

"Very well, everybody, listen to me. Blanchard, you'll be working with Mills." Snow sighed and moved closer to the unpleasant Slytherin girl. "Nolan, you go with Mister Whale."

Great, now Snow's boyfriend was teamed up with the Ravenclaw Casanova who had hit on her. Emma wondered if McGonagall was making them work with people they disliked on purpose. The blonde Gryffindor caught the eyes of Cassidy, the boy from Hufflepuff who had tried to pursue her for the longest of time and was apparently unaware of the meaning of "No". _Please, don't team me up with him, please, I beg you Merlin._

"Cassidy, you and Miss Bell." He seemed disappointed when the short blonde sat next to him and started chatting enthusiastically. Emma sighed in relief.

"Miss Lucas and Miss French. Mister Booth and Mister Hopper."

Wait.

That only left...

"Miss Swan and Mister Jones."

No sooner had the words come out of McGonagall's mouth than he was sitting next to her –a little closer than necessary– all smirks, raven black hair and blue eyes that stood out thanks to the vibrant green of his Slytherin tie. Not that she had noticed that the green tie made his eyes even bluer.

Not at all.

Maybe she should practice changing the color of his eyes so as not to make them so mesmerizing.

_As if that would work_, an extremely annoyed voice that sounded like the Fat Lady scoffed in her head.

"Jones." She addressed, nodding and breaking the suddenly tense silence.

"Swan." For Merlin's slacks, did he never stop smirking?! "I'd wager that our dear friend Cassidy is currently considering using the Cruciatus he has in store for me now."

She rolled her eyes. Both boys were often getting into arguments –rumor had it that they had even planned a formal duel but were busted by Professor Flitwick– because despite how many times Emma had rejected him, Neal Cassidy kept insisting she go out with him; and Killian Jones always got strangely overprotective of her when that happened.

Not that she needed any protection or saving, as she had shown them many times. But still, it was actually pleasant to have someone willing to take care of you, and she and Killian had grown closer over the last few months, despite belonging to historically rival Houses.

"Don't pay attention to him."

"Does he still believe in the preposterous notion that just because you two went out once two years ago you owe him another chance?" Killian asked, his eyes darkening a little bit.

"Yep," she confirmed absentmindedly while going over the instructions in her book on human transfiguration. "I'm seriously considering looking for some kind of potion or spell to take that stupid idea out of his head."

She heard him hum, and turned to see him rubbing his chin and scrunching his eyebrows, deep in thought. "I hadn't thought about that. Good call, Swan. It seems I have a trip to the library to make after class."

Emma shook her head. "I was joking, Jones."

"Well, I'm not."

She couldn't suppress her light laughter at that, and caught his smirk morphing into a soft smile before McGonagall cleared her throat, making them focus her attention on her.

"Remember, students, that the aim of these spells is not to deform a person, but to act as a momentary concealer. You are not to change the overall appearance of a person, but to alter some features just enough so that they can be unrecognizable. And I really trust that you, NEWT students, are mature enough to know that this kind of spells must only be resorted to in extremely urgent cases as a last resource. I really hope I do not catch you changing your appearance just for fun. If I do, the consequences will be noticeable in your respective House's points." The room was tensely quiet for long seconds before the strict woman relaxed her stance a little and spoke to the class again. "Now, the last announcement before you start with your practice. Christmas is six weeks away, and this year, Professor Dumbledore has decided to throw a Ball on Christmas Eve. I recommend you use your next trip to Hogsmeade next week to buy appropriate formal robes. More details will be delivered in the following days by the Heads of our Houses. Now, start practicing!"

Emma gulped and internally growled. Why, why a Ball? She was forced to spend the holidays at school because she didn't have a place to stay –she usually spent her summer holidays at Snow's, but there was no way that her friend was going to miss this newest event. She was definitely not looking forward to looking ridiculous in a formal robe and showing her two left feet to the rest of the school with...

Ugh, no.

"Quick, no matter what McGonagall just said, change my appearance as much as you can so Cassidy won't recognize me and invite me to the Ball," she whispered to Jones, only half-joking.

He laughed and pointed his wand at her. His eyes narrowed, as if trying to decide where to begin. Finally, he murmured the spell and she felt a tingly sensation in her scalp.

"You better not make me bald, Jones!" she hissed threateningly, but he only made a small mirror appear with a flourish of his wand –he was an incredibly talented wizard– and handed it to her.

"Here, see for yourself."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline when she saw her reflection in the mirror and noticed that her blonde waves were replaced by thick, deep red curls, which looked actually quite good on her.

"It would be such a waste to change your pretty face when we can use other methods to enhance it even more," he said huskily, stepping a little bit closer.

Emma was sure that her cheeks were now matching the new color of her hair. His eyes were too intense on her face, so she lowered her own, which proved to be a mistake because now she couldn't look away from his lips...

"Jones! Swan! Keep working!" the shrill voice of the Professor called, breaking their little spell.

Emma cleared her throat and pointed her wand at Killian, concentrating on changing the color of his hair as well. But the way he was looking at her was too distracting, so she ended up growing him a ginger stubble instead. And dammit, if he hadn't he look sinfully amazing before, he certainly did now.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath.

"Oh, I sort of fancy this new look. Thanks, Swan," he said, quirking an amused eyebrow at his reflection in the mirror.

"Well, don't grow too attached to it, you know McGonagall's gonna change us back to our original looks once the class is over."

He sighed dramatically. "Too bad, I quite enjoy those new red locks of yours. Go with your fiery personality."

_Did he just lick his lips? Fuck._

"You know, that means your plan for sneaking Cassidy's imminent attempt to take you to the Ball is officially down the drain," he added.

"Ugh, you're right. I'll start looking for a spell that twists his tongue every time he tries to speak to me. There must exist something like that, right?"

"Perhaps," Killian answered, a small smile lighting his face. "Or...you could go to the Ball with me."

Her eyes locked with his, and she was shocked to see that his usually cocky and self-assured stance was replaced by equal measures of insecurity and hope. It made her heart swell oddly in her chest.

"Okay," she replied weakly, and was so caught up in Killian's breathtaking grin that she barely registered that she was smiling too.

"Jones! Swan! Stop flirting and get to work or I'll take twenty House points from each of you!"


	6. Under your spell (2-3)

**a/n: **first of all, let me tell you that i'm ecstatic and humbled at your overwhelming response to this little thing! i wanted to leave it a one-shot but many people here and on tumblr asked me to continue it, so it's officially a three-shot now. hope you like it!

* * *

Emma adjusted the woolen crimson hat on her head and pulled the heavy robe tighter to protect herself from the viciously cold and humid late-November weather. Golden and orange leaves were dancing with the wind and mixing with the waves of equally wrapped up people that were running up and down the streets of the small town.

"Do you think you can produce your famous portable fire now, Snow? I might lose a finger due to the cold," she complained to her friend walking next to her.

"Come on, it's not that cold," the short-haired girl replied cheerfully. "You're just a little fussy today."

True, Emma would have very much loved to have skipped this trip to Hogsmeade and spend the day curled in an armchair by the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common Room, but alas, she needed to buy the stupid dress robes.

Because, stupid as she was, she had agreed to go to the stupid Christmas Ball.

With stupid Killian Jones.

If only she had a timeturner...

"I wonder why," Emma muttered.

"Oh, come on, we're gonna have fun! Plus, you need to help me find a dress robe that will leave David's jaw hanging loose with awe," she giggled.

"You don't need that, Snow. David's jaw already hangs loose every time he looks at you." They were her closest friends and Emma was extremely happy that they had such a strong and passionate relationship, but seeing them sometimes made her...not jealous, but wonder if she could ever have something like that for herself.

"Oh, you're so sweet. Anyway, it's the first formal event we'll be going together, and I want to make it extra special, starting with the clothes. And don't forget that we'll have to find you something to wear too."

"Ugh. Remind me again why I said yes to Jones?"

Snow gave her a playful sideways glance and linked her arm with Emma's, leaning in closer to her to speak in a secretive way. "Well, _you_ told me the reason was to already have a date so Neal wouldn't, and I quote, 'bugger' you too much about it. But..."

Emma groaned and rolled her eyes. She didn't like where that 'but' was going.

"But, it's pretty obvious that he really fancies you, Emma. And I dare say that you are not as averse to the idea of going with him as you try to show. After all, you could have told him that you didn't want to go to the Ball with anyone instead of saying yes the second he invited you."

"You heard that?" Emma asked, cheeks blushing as she remembered that Transfiguration class.

"I was quite close to you guys," Snow commented with a smirk.

"Whatever," Emma mumbled, pushing open the door to the robes shop and refusing to face the triumphant expression in Snow's face.

She hated it when her friend was right.

This was the first time in three years that she set foot in _Madame Stitch's Fine Robes and Accesories_. She'd always seen her female classmates drooling over the windowpanes, admiring the beautiful fabrics and colors, but she had never been interested in that. Until now.

Emma had to admit that the shop was really impressive. There were probably thousands of racks covering the room from floor to ceiling, and the robes were organized in a perfect scale of color that seemed to comprise every shade in existence. Magic measure tapes and scissors flew around, and the mirrors were giving their fashion advice to the girls that were trying clothes in front of them.

"Welcome, ladies!" The voice belonged to a beautiful and tall brunette sporting a loose magenta robe. "Let me guess? Coming for the Christmas Ball, right? I have had many young costumers all day. Here, let me help you find something that I think would look positively marvelous on you, dear beauties."

Madame Stitch didn't wait for their answer and turned to a rack with deep colors and shiny fabrics. Snow, who seemed to be having some kind of religious experience, practically ran after her, dragging Emma by the arm.

After what seemed like an eternity, both girls exited the shop carrying bags with their brand new robes. Snow was so happy Emma was sure she would probably start levitating. She, on the other hand...

"I told you it would be fun!" Snow said.

"Fun?" Emma scoffed. "Having that idiot Ursula girl almost throw me a petrifying curse so I wouldn't try on the robes she wanted, and then having the _fucking_ mirror telling me I look fat? I don't like your definition of fun."

"Oh, cheer up, dear. You look absolutely stunning in your new robes. Jones would very much appreciate it," she winked, earning a deadly glare from Emma. "Alright, tell you what? Let's go to the Three Brooms; butterbeer's on me."

Finally something Emma liked the sound of.

As usual, the place was incredibly crowded, but he girls managed to find a couple of empty seats at the end of a long table occupied mostly by fourth-year Hufflepuffs. The human warmth and the butterbeer quickly worn off the chill Emma had been feeling, and she took off her coat and hat and threw them carelessly to the side of the seat as she discussed their latest Potions assignment with Snow.

"You dropped this," an all-too-familiar voice said by her side, and she had to suppress a groan.

_Not this again._

"Thanks," she said in a small voice, taking her hat from Neal's hand, but he didn't move to leave.

"So...doing some shopping for the Ball?" he asked, eyeing her bag.

"Yeah, you know. I didn't have a dress robe."

"Oh," he replied, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Emma was sure the awkwardness in the air was actually tangible by now. "Listen, about that..."

"Neal, I already told you. I have a date for the Ball already, I'm not going with you." Her impatience made her delivery a little harsh, and she winced as soon as she said those words. However, Neal didn't look hurt, but angry.

"Why not?" he asked, raising his voice.

Just what Emma needed, a scene in the middle of The Three Brooms.

"Because someone else asked me first," she replied slowly, trying to stay calm.

"You should go with me," he said, although it sounded like a command.

"No, I should not."

"You and I-"

"Are nothing!" Emma exclaimed. "So stop acting as if I have an obligation to fulfill your every wish."

"You little bi-"

"Leave Swan alone." Jones' harsh voice behind her made her heart flip in her chest.

"This is none of your business, Jones," Neal said, fuming.

"Actually, it is, Cassidy, as you are harassing my date for the Ball," he answered calmly as he took the seat next to Emma's, which was now vacant.

Neal's face turned red and Emma hoped he didn't resort to using his wand against them. "You are going with _him_?!"

"Who I go with is none of your business," Emma stated. "We went out once years ago, you dumped me for that Slytherin girl Tamara and since she left you, you believe that I will fly back to your arms. I told you, I'm not interested."

"But-"

"You heard the lady, Cassidy. Bugger off," Killian said, a threatening spark in his blue eyes.

Neal stared at them for a few seconds before turning around and leaving.

"Well, I think it's safe to say he won't be bothering you again," Killian commented cheerfully; suddenly his mood had improved considerably.

"I hope I finally made him see reason without using magic."

"I think you did, after that speech. You are bloody brilliant, lass."

"Yeah, right," Emma rolled her eyes and took another swig of her now lukewarm butterbeer to avoid his intense stare.

"You truly are," Killian said, and Emma caught sight of Snow looking at her knowingly from across the table.

She couldn't catch a break today.

"Well, I already got what I needed, so I'm heading off to the castle now," Emma said suddenly, getting up and throwing a couple of Galleons to Snow to cover her drink. She moved to grab her bag with the robe but found that Killian had snatched it and was curiously peeking at its content. "Give me that!" she exclaimed, taking it from him.

He merely chuckled. "See you in Transfiguration, Swan."

She turned around to leave but he suddenly caught her wrist and brought her closer to him, until his lips were mere inches away from her ear. "Too bad the Ball's still a month away. Can't wait to see you wearing that."


	7. Under your spell (3-3)

**a/n:** finally, the ball! thanks so much for your amazing feedback! stay tuned for possible works related to this little AU world ;)

* * *

_It's not too late, you can always drink a generous amount of Sleeping Draught and pass out until January._

Emma had started to entertain that thought pretty much since she woke up to find exhilarated Snow and Ruby practically bouncing in their beds. As the day went by, the idea of sneaking into the dungeons and brewing said potion had become more and more tempting.

Unlike most years, the school was full of students during these holidays; apparently no one had wanted to miss the Christmas Ball. Well, almost no one. On the first day of the recess she didn't spot Neal in the Hufflepuff table of the Great Hall. Aurora, one of his fellow housemates, had told her that he had decided to miss the event and spend Christmas with his family, trying to amend his rocky relationship with his dad. Emma felt a pound of guilt and not little relief at that. Despite how he had treated her and that she preferred not having him around, she really wished Neal the best.

It was barely lunchtime and Emma already had enough of the overexcited students and the incessant "I can't wait for tonight!" "I still cannot believe that _he_ asked _me_!" and all that stuff. When she finished, she stealthily left the Great Hall and made her way to the library, where she was planning to spend her afternoon looking for some peace of mind until the moment when Snow and Ruby would inevitably find her and drag her back to the Common Room to doll her up for Jones.

Emma internally groaned.

Jones.

She had gone out with boys before, this was not more than a stupid Ball, she would probably have to dance with him once and then could sneak out or spend the rest of the evening sitting in a chair and showing the rest of the school how uncomfortable she was feeling. Then why was it that the thought of going with Jones made her feel so anxious?

She didn't want to ponder too much about that.

She was so immersed in the biography of Morgana Pendragon that she didn't notice that someone had taken a seat next to her until she felt hot breath by her ear.

"Hello, Swan," he said, startling her. "No need to get so jumpy about me, love. Maybe on me..."

Emma smacked his arm a little harder than necessary. "You scared me, idiot. Isn't sneaking on people...how do you say it? Bad form?"

"Apologies, milady." But his tone and smirk were not apologetic at all.

"What are you doing here?"

His expression sobered instantly and suddenly he looked a tad insecure, scratching his ear and looking intently at her book. "I just wanted to let you know that, if you don't want to go tonight, it's alright. I don't want you to feel forced or uneasy or anything."

That certainly floored her. She really was not the Ball type of girl. She didn't care about clothes or dancing or such, and she wouldn't mind missing it. And here was her date –it did strange things to Emma's heart to consider him her date– giving her a way out.

But seeing the usually cocky guy like this, cheeks lightly flushed and fingers fidgeting nervously, made her for some unrecognizable reason want to discard the sleeping potion idea.

"I mean, now that Cassidy's not going to be there, you don't have another reason to go with me..."

"I want to go with you." The words blurted out of her mouth without Emma's permission, and he seemed as shocked by them as she was.

"Really?" he asked.

She shrugged, trying to feign indifference. "Sure, why not. Balls are not my cup of tea, but who knows, it could be fun." It surprised her a little that she was _truly_ thinking it could be fun. "What I'm really not looking forward to is-"

"Emma! Here you are! Come here, we have to start getting ready!" Ruby's loud voice came from behind her and Emma rolled her eyes at her friend's perfect timing.

"-that," the blonde girl finished, earning a smile from Killian.

"For what is worth, you don't need to get ready at all; you always look enchanting," Killian said in a husky voice, winking and getting up. She didn't have time to think of a witty reply because he told her to wait for him by the Enchantments classroom at seven sharp and left the library just before Ruby threatened to throw an Imperius at her if she didn't go back to the Common Room now to fix her hair.

* * *

"I really don't know why you insist on us starting to get ready so early if all I need to do is put on my robes," Emma complained as Snow put her hands in her shoulders to make her sit on the bed.

"Oh, no, little madam, you are not only going to put on your robes," Snow clicked her tongue against her teeth in disapproval. "This is Christmas Ball is probably a one-time thing and we are going to look amazing for it!"

"You're such a Disney princess," Emma muttered under her breath.

"A what?" her friend asked, confused.

"Nothing. It's a muggle thing." The muggle orphanage in which she had stayed until her eleventh birthday often played those films for the little girls.

"Nevermind. Here, put this on your face and leave it there for fifteen minutes."

"What is it?" Emma asked, taking the pink jar in her hand and eyeing it suspiciously.

"It cleanses the skin and gets rid of acne and stuff. I got it from the Weasleys shop in Diagon Alley."

"How do you know it doesn't leave your face full of warts?"

"Because I just tried it on and look how beautiful I look," Ruby said with a smirk from her place in front of a full-size mirror, where she was using her wand to straighten her black hair and add a few red streaks to it.

"Ugh, fine." Emma conceded defeat.

The Ball better be worth all this torture.

* * *

At a quarter to seven, the girls were making their way down the stairs to the Common Room. At first the sight of hundreds of colorful spots was a bit of an eyesore after being used to everyone always wearing a black robe, but soon Emma got used to it. Snow, looking beautiful and elegant in her light-blue silk robes, waved enthusiastically to David, and told Emma and Ruby she would be seeing them in the Great Hall later before running to her boyfriend, who was sporting a cream-colored robe fit for royalty.

Emma made her way to the Enchantments classroom feeling more self-conscious with every step. This was so not her. Her blonde hair was falling on one shoulder in the form of an intricate braid Snow had made through magic –Emma didn't even know there were spells for _that_. Her robe was long-sleeved but it had a generous cleavage and a tight corset, with a skirt that flowed loose on her legs. Well, at least the mirror had told her that the dark green color made her eyes stand out when she had tried it on at the shop. Despite Ruby and Snow reassuring her, saying that she looked stunning and such, she just felt ridiculous, she was going to make a fool of herself, she-

She turned around the corner and collided with a hard and warm body.

"Geez, sorry..." she started apologizing to the boy who had placed his hands on her hips to steady her, but her words died when she looked up and saw that it was none other than Jones.

Killian.

His hair was messy, and he was sporting a long black robe made of leather with huge brass buttons and clasps that looked extremely good on him. His intense blue eyes were taking her in, and she felt a sudden sense of pride to see that he looked dumbstruck.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmured finally, his lips curving into a smile. "I really was expecting to see those red curls I gave you in Transfiguration, but I gotta say I am not disappointed." He made a show of inspect her from head to toe, making a hum of approval.

"Uhm...thanks," she said, feeling her cheeks grow hotter under his scrutiny. "Shall we?"

"Sure. But first..." he extracted his wand from an inner pocket of the leather robes and, with a little flourish, made a bouquet of small white flowers appear and presented it to her. "For you."

"Thanks," she said with a small smile. "So now you're going to be a gentleman?"

"I'm always a gentleman," he replied, taking a flower from the bouquet and pointing at her head. "May I?"

Emma nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing evenly and ignore the tingling in her whole body at the feel of Killian tucking the flower in her braid, caressing her ear with his fingers in the process.

"There. Absolutely beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than to her. She eyed him curiously and he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Let's go."

He extended his elbow to her and she linked her arm with his as they walked silently to the Great Hall. Emma couldn't shake his reaction to her out of her head. Did she really have that kind of effect on Jones?

The Great Hall looked breathtaking, the snowy sky covering the room decorated with ice sculptures, Christmas trees and hundreds of floating candles of all colors. Soft, slow music filled the air, and there were already several couples, both of students and teachers, dancing to it.

"Want something to drink?" he asked in her ear, and she had to suppress a shiver.

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

"How about a dance?"

Her hold of his arm involuntarily tightened. "I suck at dancing."

He chuckled. "I don't think that's true. Besides, it's just swaying side to side. That's not too hard."

"It is to me," she mumbled.

"Come on, Emma. A little trust?"

Damn him, it was impossible to say no to his earnest expression and imploring blue eyes.

"Fine."

He guided her to the dancefloor and gently placed a hand on her waist and held the other one tight as he led her. After the first moments of awkwardness, Emma had to admit this was not so bad. In fact, it was really nice. And the feeling of Killian so close to her, holding her and guiding her steps was strangely reassuring, it made her feel relaxed...and safe. They stopped swaying when the music was over, but soon another piece started and Killian looked at her, silently asking her if she wanted to go.

She didn't.

"Thank you for coming with me," he whispered later, when they were leaning against a wall at a corner of the room, taking a break from all the dancing (Emma had not tripped or fallen down even once, much to her pride).

She turned to him and gave him a soft, heartfelt smile. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Actually, yeah. But don't tell Snow or Ruby, I won't be able to stand their satisfied smirks."

"Don't worry, I won't," he laughed, but he instantly sobered. "You know, I've been wanting to ask you out for a long time now, but Cassidy was always on the picture and I thought that...maybe...you know."

Her heart was hammering with glee at his admission. She knew she liked Jones and felt attracted to him, but she hadn't known how much until she learned he was actually feeling the same thing for her. "Well, I'm glad you finally grew the pair to invite me," she smirked, trying to conceal the cheesy emotions she was feeling.

"Oi!" he exclaimed in mock outraged, and she laughed.

He leaned his head against the wall and looked up. Suddenly, he let out a breathless laugh.

"What is it?" Emma asked.

He pointed upwards with his head and she saw that there was a branch of mistletoe hanging over them.

"How convenient," she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow even though her heart picked up its pace again.

"I have to say, muggles have a lot of weird traditions but this one is by far my favorite one," Killian commented.

"You like muggle traditions?"

He looked legitimately offended by her question. "You know, just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean I'm a tyrant. I was actually under the care of a muggle family for a while when I was a kid."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It just surprised me."

"S'alright, love," he said before looking at her intensely. "So...do you think you can handle my honoring of this particular tradition?"

She smirked. "I know I can. The question is, can _you_ handle it?"

"There's only one wait to find out," he rasped before leaning down and kissing her soundly on the lips as his hands wrapped around her waist.

Professors were watching, but Emma didn't care. She couldn't concentrate on anything that wasn't the feel of Killian's warm lips moving against hers, the taste of him, of his tongue, the feel of the hair behind his head between her fingers.

When they broke apart to breathe, she smiled against his mouth, feeling giddy and breathless. Perhaps Christmas Balls didn't suck so much after all.


	8. Not my savior

**one-sentence prompt from tumblr:** "You maybe their savior, love. But you're not mine. You're not to risk your life for me because there won't be anything left for me if something happened to you!"

* * *

Hook kept pacing up and down the corridor outside his cabin door. If he kept on like this, he was sure his footsteps would be forever imprinted on the wooden floor, but he could not care less about that. His sole hand was trembling and his left arm was twitching; he had to fight the raw impulse to bury his hook in the closest surface. He had had plenty of reasons to be angry in his unnaturally long life, but he didn't remember ever feeling as enraged as he was feeling now.

Reckless.

She had been so bloody damn reckless.

Henry's heart had been restored to his chest and Peter Pan was currently kept locked away in Pandora's box. It seemed that the hardest feats had already been accomplished and finding a way home would be an easy enough adventure.

No such thing.

Apparently, while they were traipsing the island, several Lost Ones had stowed away inside the damaged Jolly Roger, and once everyone made it back and set sail to get away from the island, they had sneaked out of their hiding spots and attacked.

Around the same time, the mermaids had decided to pay their ship another visit as well.

In mere seconds, all hell broke loose.

Arrows and spears flying about, Lost Boys being thrown overboard, the Crocodile running off to guard the Box and ensure that they didn't try to set Pan free, mermaid swaying the ship violently to the sides. From his post by the helm, Hook could see everything unfold, and he wanted to step down and be part of the battle, but it was his duty to steer them away from the mermaids while the rest of the group fought tooth and nail against the vicious teenagers.

He was too busy taking the Jolly to safer waters; he never saw the dagger that Felix had thrown directly at his back. But he turned around just in time to actually see Emma running to him, putting herself between him and the flying knife, getting the mortal shot full in her stomach.

Remembering that image now made his blood turn into ice all over again. He had never been more scared than when he saw Emma collapsing on her knees, blooming red stains in her grey shirt. Everything after that was a blur to Hook. Somehow, merely minutes or maybe long hours later, the mermaids had disappeared and there were only a couple of Lost Ones alive, how were held captive, tied to the mast. And an unconscious Emma was rushed to his cabin by David and Neal, where she was still being nursed by her mother.

Waiting for any news about the severity of her condition was excruciating. Hook couldn't help remembering all the people he had lost on this ship. First Liam, then Milah. Emma could not become the next one. She just could not. He was positive he could never get over that.

Finally, _finally_, his door creaked open and the Charmings came out, looking heartbroken and relieved in equal measures.

"Snow sewed her up, she's fine for now," David said, and Hook could actually feel life coming back to him.

"She lost a lot of blood, though," Snow said before excusing herself and going to wash Emma's blood from her hands.

To his surprised, David got closer to him and put his hand on the pirate's shoulder. "You should stay with her, mate. You'll feel better if you do."

"Thank you, mate," he muttered before entering his own cabin and shutting the door behind him.

The sight of Emma, of strong, beautiful, brave Emma lying limp on his bed, with thick bandages around her stomach nearly broke him. He sat on a chair by the bed and inspected her. Her chest was rising and falling weakly but steadily, her face looked serene and not as deadly pale as it had been before. He let out a shaky breath full of relief. She would make it. He was sure of it.

His hand reached out and he gently brushed away a strand of golden hair from her face.

"Lass, why on the seven hells did you do that?" he asked, his fingers softly combing her locks.

"Hook?" it was so low that he almost missed it. For a second, he thought it was a figment of his imagination, but then Emma slowly half-opened her eyes and called for him again.

"I'm here love."

"Are you okay?" she rasped out, and he wanted to laugh in hysterics and weep uncontrollably. She was, or had been, on the verge of death and she was worrying about _him_.

It made no sense at all.

"I'm fine, love. How are you feeling?"

She let out a long sigh and winced once or twice. "Could be worse."

"Emma," he said, his voice imploring, broken, his fingers brushing her forehead. "Emma, do not ever do that again. Ever. You may be their savior, love. But you're not mine. You're not to risk your life for me because there won't be anything left for me if something happened to you!"

Her eyes fully opened and locked with his. They stared at each other for a long time, drowning in the other's souls, and finally her hand moved slightly until it rested on top if his left forearm. "Sorry."

"Hush, love. Just promise me you will never put yourself at risk for me again."

She shook her head. "You'd do the same for me."

He had to smile at that. "Aye, that I would. In a heartbeat. But my life is worthless and I would gladly give it away to spare yours; and I do not deserve you attempting to sacrifice for me."

"It was worth it."

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. There was no point in making her see the utter lack of sense in what she was saying now. Maybe he would when she was feeling better. But for now, he could only bask in the magnificent knowledge that she wasn't going to die on him, that for once, someone he loved didn't abandon him.

"Rest, my darling. We're about to fly to Storybrooke."

He kissed the crown of her head and made a move to get up when her weak plea made him stop, frozen on his spot.

"Killian?"

"Yes?" he replied, his voice also just a broken whisper, his heart hammering in his chest, more alive than ever since their kiss.

"Keep doing that with your fingers in my hair, please? It feels nice." Her eyes were already closed again and her voice was thick with tiredness.

"As you wish," he murmured, returning to his seat and running his fingers through Emma's hair as he watched her sleep with a barely-there smile on her face.


	9. Broken memories

**prompt from tumblr:** Killian tells Emma about Liam.  
**a/n:** kinda angsty? a little fluffy in the end maybe? flangsty? idek

* * *

"Captain! Captain! Look what I found!"

In their spot by the helm they could hear Henry's excited screams from below deck. Emma turned to Killian and narrowed her eyes at him. "I hope it isn't something unfit for an eleven-year-old," she threatened, but it lacked severity.

"I can't really reassure you about that in particular, my love," he answered, giving her a smile that somehow was both angelic and mischievous. How the hell did he do that?

Finally, they saw Henry's face appear from below deck, followed by the rest of him. He was carrying a big lump cradled against his chest. When he reached them, he lifted it for them to inspect more closely. Emma noticed that it was a wide hat.

"Is it yours, Captain?" Henry asked eagerly.

Emma turned to Killian but was shocked to see that he had paled considerably and was staring at the hat as if it were a ghost. His hand that was resting around her waist unconsciously tightened its grip. It only took her three seconds to connect the dots.

"Henry, why don't you keep inspecting the ship? You may find something more interesting than a hat; maybe an old weapon or something," Emma suggested, attempting a light tone.

"Okay," the boy said, clearly picking up the message, and turned around to disappear behind the door of the crew's cabins again.

"Killian?" she asked tentatively, worry creeping inside her at the sight of how broken her pirate still was.

She placed a hand on his cheek and he seemed to come to life again with a little start, shaking his head and trying to conceal the pain in his eyes. But Emma could see it. She could see through him. And it hurt her to see him hurt so badly.

"I'm not going to force you to talk about it," she whispered, rubbing her hand up and down his forearm, "but I think it would do you good to do so. You know, let it out. Maybe the wound will start to heal. But only if you want to."

If he heard her, he didn't show. But she knew he had, and that the matter was far too delicate to press him for answers. So, she turned around and turned the Jolly a couple notches to starboard.

As much as Emma would have preferred a plane, he had insisted on taking the ship to New York to look for clues about the Home Office and where the whole population of Storybrooke (minus the three of them) had been sent with the Neverland curse. This mean of transportation had its advantages, she had to admit. It was almost as fast as travelling by plane and they would be able to actually stay there instead of looking for accommodation in the Big Apple. Plus, it would have been very awkward to explain the airport security guards why they were carrying a sharp metal hook with them.

Ten minutes had passed in tense silence when Emma heard him sigh behind her, but she didn't turn around.

"The hat was Liam's."

She had already figured as much, but she didn't tell him that. She turned to face him but didn't open her mouth or moved to touch him; just silently let him know that she was there for him and that she would support him.

"I didn't even remember I had kept it. It was part of his uniform as Captain of the Royal Navy, many centuries ago. I do not remember how many," he continued, voice barely above a whisper, eyes lost in a memory of other times, sad times.

"He was...he was twelve years older than me. But he wasn't always with me, no. When I was a wee lad of just four, he left home to start his career as a seaman, serving the King. It was his dream, and his loyalty would later on be his downfall."

He swallowed visibly, is Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and Emma longed to caress his hair comfortingly, but she knew that he had to go through it all first.

"Three years later, my father and I boarded a ship together, but I woke up the following day to find him gone. Turns out he was a wanted fugitive, a good-for-nothing thief. The Captain of the ship threw me to the streets as soon as we touched port, but Liam had somehow heard about my luck and he came back to take care of me. He rubbed off his love for the sea on me, and I worshipped him. I wanted to follow is every step so when I was old enough to start working on a ship, I did. On his ship. When I was eighteen I was promoted Lieutenant, and he was my Captain. Until the cursed day that we took off on a mission to retrieve a healing plant upon request of the King. A plant from Neverland."

Emma tried to suppress a shiver. She could see where this story was going.

"The plant was Dreamshade. Once on Neverland, we ran into Peter Pan and he told us that it was poisonous and that the king probably wanted it to kill his enemies. I told Liam we should listen to Pan, but of course he dismissed me, unable to believe that our righteous King would do something so fiendish. In order to prove me wrong, he deliberately cut himself with a branch of Dreamshade."

Emma could not help her sharp intake of breath and Killian closed his eyes.

"Pan showed me the magical stream of water that would cure him, and he warned me that all magic comes with a price. But at the time I thought he wanted money or something of material value; it didn't cross my mind that Liam would drop dead as soon as we left that bloody island."

She stepped closer and carefully wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her heard against his chest and listening to the throbbing beats of his heart.

"I'm so sorry, Killian. I'm really so, so sorry. It was _not_ your fault."

She felt him freeze around her.

"How did you know-?"

"I can read you too, you know. You must stop blaming yourself. It was just a very unfortunate accident. You had no way of knowing that that would happen."

"I practically baited him to poison himself," he muttered, voice coated with deep self-hatred.

"Hey," Emma said, pulling apart just enough to frame his face with her hands and caress his cheeks. "You did not. As terrible a decision as it was, it was something he did on his own free will to prove that his belief in your King was true. You obviously didn't want him to die, and there was nothing you could have done afterwards."

His lips trembled and a lonely tear escaped its confinement and ran down his face. Emma caught it with her thumb and leaned closer to him.

"For what it's worth, I know that Liam would be very proud of the man you have become now, Killian. Of everything you have done so selflessly to help us." She placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"What did I do to deserve you, lass?" he asked, his forehead resting against hers.

Emma smiled and shook her head. "You're not alone anymore, Killian. We all have our demons and ghosts. You helped me fight mine, and now I'll help you move on from yours. After all, we do make quite the team."

"Aye, that we do," he replied before softly pulling away from her and returning his attention to the helm. Emma could see in his face that the worst was over and, sighing contentedly, rested her head on his shoulder as he lead them one step closer to home.


	10. I've been a martyr for love

**Summary:** Emma chooses Henry's happiness and picks Neal, on her bachelorette party she gets tipsy, and Killian, who has secretly decided to leave town on the day of Emma's wedding, is there.

**A/N:** I combined two different tumblr prompts for this. Angsty. Smutty. Angsty smut, kinda rough at times. Yeah. Also, I'm not sure about how much sense this makes, but well.

* * *

"To Emma! Or should I say the future Mrs. Cassidy? Cheers!" Ruby exclaimed, raising her glass.

Belle, Snow, Ashley and even Regina joined her, expressing her congratulations and drinking to her health and happiness in the new stage of her life that was going to start as from the following day. Emma's stomach twisted.

Alcohol.

She needed more alcohol.

Everything had happened too fast, her mind had been hazy, but now, with Ruby's toast, it felt real. Too real. In some corner of her mind she knew what she had agreed to, but the full implications of it hadn't actually dawned on her until now.

She was going to marry Neal. As in "husband and wife". As in bonded together for eternity.

She emptied her glass of whiskey in one long gulp.

* * *

_A week before_

"Hey guys," Emma greeted as she took a seat next to Henry and across from Neal in the booth. They'd only been back from Neverland for five days, and Henry, who had been distant and quiet the whole time, had insisted on his parents having breakfast with him, so she could only agree. She would do anything to get back the happy little guy that he used to be before his abduction to the cursed island.

"Hey, mom," he said with a small smile. "Here, we ordered hot cocoa and cinnamon for you." He passed her the steamy mug.

"Oh, thanks," she said, taking a sip of it and noticing that Neal was looking at her in a weird way. Too intently at times, then he seemed to notice and divert his eyes to anywhere but her, and then all of it again.

"It's nice, you know," Henry commented offhandedly after a few minutes, while eating his bun. "The three of us being together. I like it."

"Kid..." Emma started.

"Henry's right," Neal said, interrupting her. "It's nice. We are a family, the three of us. We should be together, like this, all the time."

"What-"

"I know I screwed up big time in the past, Emma, but I want to make up for it. I really do. I want to make it right this time, for Henry, and for _us._"

He moved quickly and before she noticed, he was on his knee in front of her, holding out an opened suede box showing a sparking ring. _No, no, this isn't happening. This is just a dream, this is-_

"Marry me, Emma?"

She froze, unable to think, unable to speak. Instantly she turned to her son. He was pleading with his eyes, looking at her with such hope, and happiness. He really wanted his mom and dad together. It was what would make him happier; Emma saw it in his eyes.

_A good parent must do anything possible to make their child happy._

"Okay," she whispered, still stunned, and she barely registered the roar of screams and applause from everyone at Granny's who had been looking closely at the scene. She felt both Henry and Neal embrace her, and she lamely wrapped her arms around them both, eyes lost in the distance, catching the sight of the twirl of a long leather jacket a second before its wearer left the diner through the back door.

* * *

"Emma, are you alright, sweetheart?" Snow asked, concerned.

The blonde shook her head to erase the memory she had been lost in.

"Yeah," she answered weakly.

"Honey," her mother started, with her best Don't-pull-shit-on-me-I-know-you-better-than-anyone tone. "I know that this is going on way too fast, and it's normal to have second thoughts and doubts, especially the night before."

"I'm okay," Emma said again like an automaton. She had been on autopilot ever since Neal had slipped the ring on her finger: unable and unwilling to show her emotions, to let herself _feel_ her emotions. She knew that if she did, this whole thing would go down the drain. She couldn't do that now, not to Neal, not to Henry.

_What about what you're doing to Killian?_

Thoughts like that were _exactly_ why she had closed herself off like never before.

Snow placed a warm hand on hers and squeezed lovingly. "Just make sure you're doing this for the right reasons."

"I'm doing this for Henry, and _that _is the best reason." She suddenly got up and muttered some lame excuse before walking as steadily as possible to the bar. She knew that if she kept drinking she would be hung over during the ceremony the next day (oh, God, the ceremony), but she needed it. She needed oblivion. She needed to lose herself one last time before forcing herself to give up her chance for real love –because, let's face it, she was pretty damn sure Neal wasn't _it_ for her- for her son. She needed...

She collapsed against a warm and solid body, and an arm instantly wrapped around her waist to steady her. She looked up and saw exactly what she need and didn't need right now.

Killian's blue eyes went from surprised to tender to hurt to cold in a fraction of a second, but she saw the changing emotions as clear as day. His arm dropped her waist and she felt strangely cold and disappointed with the lack of touch.

"Swan," he said, his voice low and capable of icing her blood. "I believe congratulations are in order for the happy bride-to-be."

"Hook, don't," she pleaded. She couldn't take it coming from him of all people.

"What is it? Am I hurting your feelings with my sincere speech?" his voice dripped bitterness. "Forgive me, lass, but I believe it's only fair. Or are you having cold feet? We both know that you don't love Neal, that you don't want to marry him," he said, not taking his eyes off her, silently challenging her to prove him wrong or agree with him. He was right, of course he was. He always knew her so well.

Why make it harder and admit the truth when she could keep pretending?

"I'm not having cold feet," she said as determined as she could.

Hook barked out a mirthless laugh and shook his head. "Why are you taking the easy way out and settling with someone who makes you unhappy? Why?"

"Because it's what Henry wants!" she said, raising her voice, finally letting the truth out. "Henry wants nothing more than his parents together. After all he's been through I owe it to him to give it a chance."

Hook was silent for a long time, his eyes impossible to decipher for once. "Your intentions are noble, no doubt about that. Yet, have you asked yourself if it is worth it? What good does it make it to the lad to have his parents together if they are not happy about it?"

Damn him. Damn him to the deepest pit of hell.

"Henry deserves a chance," Emma repeated, perfectly aware that she was not answering his questions.

So was he.

"Then I believe this is farewell, Princess," he said, with a deep, mocking bow.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving at the crack of dawn," he informed, looking over her shoulder.

"Leaving? Leaving where?"

He shrugged, his expression the opposite of the fearless and determined pirate captain she knew so much and liked so much. "I know not. Wherever the winds take me. All I know is that I cannot see you doing what you are going to do."

Panic rushed through her entire being. The thought of the Jolly Roger losing herself in the horizon, of not seeing him anymore was like a stab to her chest, knocking the air out of her.

"No," she said frantically, "no, don't leave. Please."

"Don't marry Neal," he countered, his blue eyes softer and more vulnerable than she had ever seen him. Even more than when he confessed he loved her. "Please, Emma, don't marry him."

"I have to," she said shakily, struggling to get the words out of her, although they left such a bitter aftertaste in her tongue.

For a second, Hook let her see the pain in him before he narrowed her eyes at her and clenched his jaw. "Then allow me to give you a wedding present," he said, suddenly taking her by the wrist and pulling her through the crowds, out of the Rabbit Hole, into a dark and empty alley not far away. He pushed her against the wall and pressed his body to hers, trapping her. The heat emanating from him and the fact that they were out in the open and someone could catch her made her mind more blurry than all the booze she had drunk.

His mouth landed on hers, hard, demanding, forcing hers to open as his tongue thrust into almost violently. Her arms locked around his neck for support as his only hand fisted in her hair and pulled sharply, his hook tracing her leg and pulling it to wrap it around his waist so that she could feel the hardening bulge in his pants.

She moaned into his mouth, and he grunted, grinding against her, creating friction that almost made Emma lose herself completely.

This was totally insane, full of desperation, lust. It was wrong.

It was _right_.

He invaded her senses. There was no air, no, nothing else but his scent, his taste on her mouth, the feel of him so warm and hard and perfect against her, the way his hand left her hair and travelled down her body, reaching its destination, pulling up the hem of her short red dress as he started sucking the hollow of her collarbone and licking the skin of her breasts that her cleavage exposed, and his rough fingertips brushed her oversensitive sex, making moan and writhe under his touch as he started circling her clit fast and rough.

"Oh, so wet already, sweetheart," he purred, slipping a finger between her folds. "Good. I want you to remember this," he punctuated the last word by curling his finger inside her and biting her earlobe, "I want you to think about this when you are with him, I want you to have to bite your lip to prevent from screaming _my_ name when he takes you."

Without previous notice, he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around him as he hastily undid his trousers just enough to sink his pulsing length in her. Her lips parted in a silent scream at the delicious invasion and her fingers twisted in his hair. He didn't leave her much time to adjust, but set an almost brutal pace, slamming into her and out, in and out, stretching her to the point where pain and pleasure were blended together and Emma had never felt so fucking good before.

"Do you like this, love?" he murmured before licking her neck, causing her breath to hitch and a soft mewl leave her throat. "Do you like me fucking you against the wall? My cock deep inside you?"

"Yes," she rasped in between quiet moans. "Yes, oh...fuck...yes...Hook..."

At that, he paused and then slammed into her particularly hard, her toes curled and dug against his ass. "I'm Killian, love." He rasped.

"Killian..."she moaned, and then she was there, her entire body shaking with her orgasm as she held to him for dear life. He followed a few thrusts later, spilling inside her and biting her shoulder to silence a moan.

Eventually, she came down from her high and unwrapped her legs from around him. He helped set her to her feet, but didn't let go of her. She buried her face in his chest as the realization of that she had just done sank in.

Killian. Killian was what she needed. She was sure about it more than ever. Him with her, him inside her –because now she knew how he felt, now she didn't have to fantasize about him anymore- that was it for her. The mere thought of not experiencing it ever again filled her with dread and sadness.

"Take me to the ship," she whispered against his chest. She didn't care that her mother and other women were waiting for her inside, probably wondering where she went or even looking for her, she didn't care that she was supposed to be married in less than twenty-four hours.

"Lass?" he asked, uncertain, while caressing her hair lovingly.

She pulled away just enough to lock eyes with him. "Killian. Take me to the ship."

He nodded and took her hand in his warm, bigger one, and together they walked silently to the Jolly. Luckily, it was a short walk from the bar to the harbor and the streets were empty.

Once they were inside his cabin, Emma launched forward and kissed him, pouring all her feelings in the gesture. She marched forward until he fell back on the bed and she landed on top of him.

"I wish I could just go away with you," she whispered against his lips as she unbuttoned his shirt and scratched her nails on the hair of his lean chest.

"You don't have to do it, Emma. You and him don't have to be married to be a family for Henry," he said, rubbing her back reassuringly.

She looked up and stared at his eyes for a long time, drowning in the sky-blue depths. "I know," she replied, and finally not being afraid to acknowledge it felt purifying.

She felt free.

She spread kisses all over his chest, his neck, his face. With a grunt, he rolled them over so that he was on top of her, and their dance started again; slower this time but just as hot and passionate as before, bodies moving in unison and souls connecting. Emma allowed herself to feel everything that she had been restraining, and it felt almost overwhelming. And when she jumped off the edge, she took him with her. And they stayed in each other's arms well after their breathing and heartbeats evened.

"I'm sorry," she said, caressing him. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm so, so sorry."

"Are you still marrying him?"

_Or are you staying with me?_

He didn't say it, but she heard it anyway.

Emma didn't answer for a long time, until she lifted Killian's chin with her finger and smiled for the first time in a week.

"I think once I explain everything, they'll understand," she said, taking off Neal's engagement ring and leaving it aside.


	11. These dreams

**tumblr prompt:** "I think you'd make a great father."

* * *

Killian woke up to the feeling of hot air being puffed against his neck at regular intervals. He looked down to see that Emma's nose was buried against his skin, her arm around his chest, and he smiled contentedly. No matter how much time it passed, he knew he would never get over the overwhelming feeling of waking up every day in the arms of this goddess. He rubbed his hand slowly up and down her back until he felt her stirring awake beside him.

"Morning," he whispered, and her arm around him tightened. She only mumbled in response.

He kissed the crown of her head, then used his finger to lift her head so that his lips had access to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. He softly pried her lips open so that his tongue could taste her.

They kissed lazily but passionately for some time until Emma suddenly disappeared and he opened his eyes, feeling his mouth suddenly cold and tingly. He sat up in bed just in time to see her shutting the door of the bathroom, and a few seconds later, gagging sound from inside.

Killian sighed as he woke up and shuffled to his wife. "Again, lass?"

He grabbed her hair softly to keep it away from her face as she rested her forehead in the cool ceramic of the toilet. After a few minutes, she declared that it was over and she woke up slowly with his help.

"You've been like this for a few days now," he commented, trying not to show just how much it worried him. "Maybe you should go to the doctor?"

"Killian, I told you, I'm fine," she said, and he had to suppress an eye-roll. That stubborn lass.

He carefully wrapped his arms around her and brought her to his chest. "I just don't like seeing you like that," he murmured, lips pressed into her hair.

He felt her smile against his chest. "I know. Thank you." Suddenly she pulled apart as if lightning had struck her. Her eyes were open wide and her gaze was lost, distant.

"Emma?"

She shook her head and looked at him, eyes still wide, but he saw a hint of a smile pull up in her face. "Nothing," she said quickly, too quickly.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "Let's just have some breakfast with Henry now. I have to run a few errands after I take him to Regina's, wait for me here?"

His eyebrow shot up. "Sure," he said tentatively.

Emma stood on her tiptoes to kiss him full in the mouth. "Come on, let's go make some waffles." And with that, she almost ran to the kitchen, leaving a shocked and confused pirate captain on her wake.

* * *

Killian spent all morning jittery and uneasy, doing everything and anything to pass the time as he waited for Emma to return of her mysterious "errands". He had washed the dishes, made their bed, even swept the floor and dusted the living room furniture –if only his crew could see him now, the fearsome and ruthless Captain Hook playing a bloody maid – and in the end he had settled on the couch, tuning in a sports game on TV. At first he had not understood what was so appealing about a bunch of grown man chasing after a ball and kicking it and throwing it around, but then it had started to rub off on him. He remembered Emma laughing at his undivided attention to the game and his screams at the blind fool of a referee, commenting that he had fully turned into a man of this realm.

He bolted to his feet at the sound of keys in the lock, and he saw Emma entering the apartment with a smile on her lips. That calmed his anxiety greatly, but he still was at odds.

"Love, what is going on with you this morning?" he asked.

She didn't answer, just went on taking of her coat, scarf and woolen hat painfully slowly and putting them in the rack by the door. His eyes narrowed as realization settled in him.

She was toying with him.

Oh, the nerve of his lass!

He launched forward and grabbed her midsection to throw her across his shoulders. She squealed and hit him lightly wherever she would reach, as he was constricting her arms.

"Pull me down, Killian!"

"Not until you tell me what is going on." He started shaking his shoulders lightly to spite her.

"You _really_ don't want to keep doing that," she warned.

"Why not?"

"Okay, pull me down and I'll tell you." There was some strained emotion in her voice that gave him pause, so he bent to set her on her feet.

"What is it?"

"Remember earlier today when you said you hated seeing me sick?" He nodded, still lost. "Well, I'm sorry, but you'll be seeing me like that every day for the next three months or so."

She was biting her lips to prevent the smile from appearing and it suddenly dawned on him; her sickness, her mood swings, the secrecy and excitement...

"You are..."

She beamed at him. "I am."

"_Emma_...," he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her, pouring all his love and devotion into the gesture. "Emma, you beautiful, perfect, magnificent woman..."

"Hey, it wasn't all me, remember? You also had your part in this," she said, cheeks pink.

He laughed heartily. "Aye...did you just go to the hospital?"

She shook her head. "I bought a couple of pregnancy tests and took them in the station. I wanted to make sure before telling you so I wouldn't disappoint you in case it was a false alarm."

"You could never disappoint me, love," he said before kissing her again. "Now shall we break the news to your parents? I really can't wait to tell my mate about this."

* * *

Killian tossed and turned in bed, breathing deeply in order to try to tame his wildly-beating heart. He gingerly got up and went to the kitchen to fetch something to drink. His eyes lingered in the nearly-empty liquor cabinet, and after a grunted curse he grabbed the rum and took a swig. He hadn't drunk in a long time, but now he was in dire need of it. He needed to erase the images that the nightmare had left imprinted in his brain.

A baby born with one hand missing.

Emma, Henry and the Charmings blaming him for the defect of the babe.

Him intending to hold his crying son and soothe him, only resulting in the tiny bundle slipping from his arm and into a void that swallowed him.

He bloody well couldn't do this. He couldn't do this to the baby. He couldn't curse him with a useless father that would never be enough for him and didn't know how to take care of him.

"Killian?" he heard behind him, but he didn't turn around. He didn't want his lass to see him like this and think that he was unhappy about her pregnancy.

His eyes were glued to the bottle of rum in his hand as the sound of Emma's footsteps grew closer until she was standing in front of him.

"Killian, please look at me," she begged with a broken voice, and just like every time she asked something of him, he couldn't deny it.

Their eyes locked for a little eternity, and, feeling defeated, he let her read everything hiding behind his orbs. Her green irises softened and she caressed his cheeks with her hands.

"I'm terrified at this too, sweetheart," she said, and he looked at her surprised. She never used any kind of terms of endearment. "I only met Henry when he was ten. I don't know how to raise a baby. We will learn together. We have about eight months to do it."

"It's not just that," he admitted, unconsciously waving his stump, but she caught sight of the motion.

"Killian, you deserve this," she said, her hold of his face tightening, voice dripping conviction. "I don't want you to feel like you're not good enough, you _are_, and you have proved it so, so many times." She leaned closer to him until her lips brushed his ear. "I think you'd make a great father. And our baby won't care that your hand is missing, just like I don't care and neither does Henry. He or she is going to love you so much, like all of us do. Now let's get back to bed."

* * *

Seven and a half months later, David Liam Jones was born, healthy and perfect in every way.

There were tears in Killian's eyes when he held him for the first time, his son firmly secured in his arms, his little hand shooting up to brush his scruffy chin.

"Told you so," Emma said from her hospital bed, wearing an exhausted but smug smile.


	12. Celebrations

**prompt:** Emma discovers it's Killian's birthday and wants him to have a real celebration.

* * *

"Can I ask you something, Mary Margaret?" Emma asked, sliding into the booth, opposite to her mother.

"Sure, what is it?"

Emma bit her lip, hesitating for a second, before sighing loudly and going for it.

"Do you know if time and dates in the Enchanted Forest as the same as here?"

The woman's dark eyebrows shot up quizzically before she answered. "As a matter of fact, they are. I had my birthday when you were in New York with Gold."

Now it was Emma's turn to be baffled. "Really? Why didn't you tell me?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "No big deal. Plus, there was a lot on our plates those days." Her eyes were distant and sad for a few seconds before she shook her head, getting rid of whatever memory was haunting her. "Why do you ask?"

Emma looked around the diner to make sure that the coast was clear before leaning forward and whispering. "Then Killian's birthday is in three days."

"Did he tell you?"

Emma shifted a little on her seat, uneasy. "No... I was having a look at the books in his cabin while he was polishing the helm earlier, and inside one of them I found a kind of birth certificate. _His_ birth certificate."

"Oh," Mary Margaret said. "And you want to celebrate it, right?"

"Well, I think it's the least I can do after everything he's done for us and for me. And he deserves it."

"He really does." She laughed softly at Emma's distrustful face. "I may have not liked him very much at first but he's proved that he really loves you. And he saved us all from the New Curse. Well, you both did," she added, winking at her daughter.

"We are _not_ discussing that again," Emma said firmly, fighting the blush creeping to her cheeks at the thought of how her kiss with the pirate had broken the tangled mess that was the combination of Regina's and Pan's curses. "I think that if I do it, I'm gonna have to keep it a secret, otherwise he wouldn't let me."

"True. Well, count on me for whatever you need. And on your dad. God knows he adores the Captain."

"Thank you. And I think the situation calls for an expert in secret missions," Emma said, taking out her cellphone from her pocket and dialing. "Hey kid, what's up? You up to another Operation Cobra?"

* * *

Killian woke up to the feeling of soft, hot lips pressing against his neck, and his arms automatically wrapped around Emma's naked body, bringing her closer to him.

"Good morning," she purred in his ear, making him shiver.

"Morning love," he slurred, massaging her hip and pulling her on top of him. Her bubbly laugh had a direct affect in his lower section, and he grinded upwards so she could feel it.

She moaned as he rolled her over so he was on top and descended his lips on her throat. "We have to meet Henry for breakfast in twenty minutes, we gotta be quick."

"As you wish," he murmured, pushing forward and in, making them both gasp and shudder in pleasure.

Half an hour later, they walked hand in hand into Granny's.

"You're late!" Henry accused from his booth.

"Sorry, lad," Killian said, though he really wasn't sorry at all. The tardiness had been worth it.

They were all eating their cinnamon pancakes when Emma's phone stared buzzing loudly. Excusing herself, she got up to answer it, and came back after a few minutes, looking affronted.

"I gotta go to the station, there's an emergency," she announced.

"Do you need my assistance, love?"

She shook her head. "I got David. Though it looks like it's gonna take a long time. Do you mind spending the day with Henry?"

"No, not at all, darling. That is, if the lad is okay with it, if not, I can take him to Regina's or Neal's..."

"No! I'd love spending time alone with you!" Henry said with a beam, sending a wave of warmth to Killian's heart. "I'll show you around town and teach you things about this world!"

"Lad, if you remember correctly, your mum, you and I traipsed quite a lot around this world; I think I learnt some," he said with a smile, but Henry shook his head.

"We were on a mission then, there's a lot of stuff we do to have fun that you don't know of."

"Okay, it's settled them. Henry, I'll text you when I'm done, okay? Thank you, Killian," Emma said, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips before turning around and leaving.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts about these ways to have fun that Henry mentioned that he missed the secretive wink mother and son had shared.

* * *

"So let me see if I understood correctly," Killian said, massaging his temple; his head was killing him after so many hours of staring at the screen. "When the noseless villain tried to kill the baby, he put part of his own soul in him, and that is what allowed the boy to kill him later?"

"Hum, yeah, pretty much. I guess we can sum it up that way," Henry said, taking another fistful of popcorn to his mouth. "So did you like them?"

"It was an intriguing story. Yes, I quite liked it," he hummed appreciatively.

"They were originally books, which were adapted to the movie. I can lend them to you if you want. They're actually much better than the movies, I think."

Killian smiled. "Thank you, lad. That would be great."

They stayed on the couch of the Charmings' empty apartment –strangely enough, Mary Margaret hadn't been around all day – and Killian closed his eyes for a moment. He had been watching those "movie" things with Henry during most of the morning and the afternoon, and his eyes were sore.

Henry suddenly got up and disappeared to the bathroom, to come back seconds later with a tiny bottle in his hand. "Sorry, I forgot you're not used to watching TV for so long. Here, put these drops in your eyes and they'll feel better."

He did as instructed and the itching immediately subsided. "Thank you, Henry."

"No problem. By the way, my mom texted me. She said she's done working, she's waiting for us at the docks."

Killian's eyebrow shot up. "Why is the in the docks?"

Henry shrugged, turning around to pack his stuff in his backpack. "No idea, maybe she was working there and doesn't feel like coming all the way to the apartment."

Killian got up and stretched his arms behind his back before placing his hand on Henry's shoulder. "In that case, my boy, we best get going."

The sun was sinking and tinting the sky into a soft orange by the time they arrived to the empty docks.

"I don't see her," Killian said, narrowing his eyes and inspecting their surroundings.

"Well, she told me she was pretty tired. Maybe she's napping on the Jolly," Henry said, grabbing Killian's hand and making his way up the gangplank of the ship with a shocked pirate captain in tow.

As soon as his feet touched the deck, dozens of lights were lit at the same time, momentarily blinding him, many voices screaming "Surprise!" filled the air. Unable to fully grasp what was going on, Killian looked down at Henry, who was beaming at him with a cheeky expression. In front of him, a great number of the townspeople were clapping and cheering. David got close to him and patted him in the back, wishing him congratulations. He frowned. Congratulations on what? Snow White moved forward and, surprisingly, kissed his cheek, and Neal, from a safe distance, nodded at him in recognition, with a shy smile plastered on his face. The dwarves were already pillaging a table full of food and drinks, but his attention now was fully on the blonde beauty approaching him.

"What is this, lass?" he asked, arms going around her waist on their own volition.

She graced him with a smile that could light up the darkest pit of hell. "Happy birthday, Captain."

He froze for a second. After so much time trapped in Neverland and frozen in the Enchanted Forest, his time-tracking sense had suffered greatly, but a mental calculation made him realize that it was, in fact, his birthday today. "How did you-"

"Found a paper inside your cabin a few days ago, and I wanted you to have a proper celebration," she said, her hand caressing the hair at the back of his neck.

"So the big emergency today was but a ruse?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Supposedly, yes, but getting a call about seven dwarves attacking the beer containers instead of transporting them to the Jolly could be qualified as a real emergency."

He chuckled, feeling happier than he had in a very, very long time. "What did I do to deserve you?" he muttered against Emma's forehead before kissing it tenderly.

She pulled away and pushed him to the center of the deck, where everyone was chatting amicably and sharing drinks. "Come on, birthday boy. Let's have some cake."


	13. A man's best friend

**Summary**: Killian and Henry convince Emma to get a puppy. Published in my tumblr a few days ago.

* * *

When her relationship with Killian was made official, Emma was secretly panicking about Henry disapproving of him or being uncomfortable with the notion that his parents were not going to get back together. Much to her relief, Killian was beyond excited about spending more time around a fictional-character-come-true who actually had no idea about his animated counterpart. The first evening that the three of them had hung out in the loft, Henry had shown him Disney's Peter Pan. Emma was actually surprised to see that Killian wasn't as outraged with the story as she thought he would be (yes, she was not ashamed to admit that she had imagined her pirate's affronted gasp at seeing his permy cartoon); on the contrary, he was fascinated with the idea of "watching a play take place in a screen whenever he wanted by putting that rounded thing into the rectangular thing".

Since that moment, it had been their little tradition to watch a Disney movie with the pirate once a week. It made Emma's heart flutter in her chest to see how excited Killian always was on the days they had those movie dates with Henry. She knew that it wasn't only for the stories; he cared deeply for her boy and the feeling was reciprocal, to the pleasure of both of them.

At one point, their tradition had to end abruptly.

Emma had asked him to move in with them, and now the three of them could watch Disney movies together whenever they wanted.

Even though Killian always had that soft and awed expression in his eyes whenever they watched a film (something that made Emma fall a little more in love with him every time), tonight's was especially tender. She didn't watch the film, but preferred to stare with her eyebrow cocked at the pirate and his barely-there goofy smile as he watched 101 Dalmatians.

"What's up with you?" she asked after turning off the TV when the credits started to roll.

"About what, love?"

"You were watching the screen as if the sight was about to melt you."

He merely shrugged and suggested they ordered Chinese for dinner.

"You know, love," he said an hour later, mouth full of egg roll. "Puppies are nice."

Henry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Especially Dalmatians! They are so cute. And when they grow up they're still so cute! You've seen Pongo!"

Emma stared at her two boys, looking at her with the same pleading eyes, and everything clicked. "We're not getting a puppy."

Their faces fell at the same time; it was quite comical, but Emma felt it would be too cruel to laugh at them at the moment. "Moooom, please!"

"Emma, my love, consider it at least."

She snickered. "Who would have thought the fearsome and terrible Captain Hook actually has a soft spot for fluffy fuzzy tiny animals?"

"If you're trying to offend me, dearest, you are not succeeding. I am not ashamed to admit that I _do_ have a soft spot for animals, and for fluffy fuzzy things," he stared at her pointedly and winked.

Emma narrowed her eyes. He was definitely not helping his and Henry's point.

"I'm sorry, guys. But a dog is a lot of responsibility. We're hardly at home to look after one, and there is not much room here in the loft. Maybe later," she added quickly, seeing that Henry seemed to be about to cry.

"But I would really like a pet...can I get a hamster?" he asked, and Emma smiled against her own will.

"Sure, if you take care of feeding it and cleaning its cage. And if you don't leave him loose around the house, I'm not so keen of rodents."

"Yay! I'll go with Gramps to buy one tomorrow!" Henry exclaimed happily before excusing himself and disappearing inside his bedroom.

Killian sighed. "At least it's something. Still, I am going to convince you about getting a dog, love."

She smirked. She so loved a challenge. "We'll see, pirate."

* * *

"Killian," she called absentmindedly one night. They were lying on their bed, limbs entangled, her head against his neck, his lips on her hair.

"Yes?" he murmured, making her skin tingle.

She ran her hand up and down his toned arm. "I was thinking...maybe it will be nice to have a puppy."

She felt him freeze against her for a moment before he pulled apart, eyes inspecting her face closely. "Why now, lass? It's been months since we last had that conversation."

"You mean since you and Henry gave up bugging me about it because you realized that it was fruitless and annoying."

"Whatever, semantics." He shook his head eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. "Why do you suddenly want one, love?"

She stared at his long (and quite tempting, but she would leave that for _after_ they have this conversation) neck as she answered. "I was just thinking. Henry's been down since his hamster died a few days ago, and it would be a good company for him. Plus it will teach him responsibilities, taking care of a dog is more complicated than a hamster. Besides," she smiled involuntarily, "I read that puppies tend to get along really well with babies."

She looked up just in time to see his blue eyes widen in shock, then warm up with love and adoration as realization sank in. He smiled and wrapped her tighter in his arms, peppering her with kisses in between his laughs of joy. Emma couldn't help the laugh that escaped her too. And the tears.

* * *

The following week, she, Killian and Henry bought a three-weeks-old German shepherd and called him Chuck.

During the following months, Emma often would find herself waking up from her naps with Chuck tucked beside her belly, nuzzling it affectionately with his snout.

Usually, the first indication she and Killian had that Daisy Swan-Jones had started crying during the nights was Chuck licking their faces to wake them up and whining until one succeeded in soothing their daughter, after which he would return to his position by the crib.

One time, Emma arrived home from the station to find the house strangely quiet. She approached their bedroom quietly to find their toddler sleeping peacefully on the bed, protected by a snoring Killian on one side and Chuck in the other. The animal was occupying her side of the bed, but the image of the three of them was so tender that she couldn't find it in herself to care about it.

Getting a dog had actually been one of their best decisions.


	14. Found

**summary:** a chance encounter between young Killian Jones, recently abandoned by his father, and young Princess Emma, that will change their lives forever.  
**a/n:** Lieutenant Ducking. Written for my Secret Santa on tumblr. Enjoy and Merry Christmas everybody!

* * *

His stomach roared.

He had never been hungrier in his life. In three days, he hadn't eaten anything more than the leftovers of a horrible stew from the trash. He was always kicked or pushed away with a broom when he tried to rummage in the refuse of houses and inns in search for something edible; and no one had taken pity of him, giving him a roof or a blanket, or even a piece of dark, stale bread. There was no pity for Killian Jones, the seven-year-old that old good for nothing David ("Davy", "dada") had abandoned aboard a ship in his desperate attempt to avoid paying for his crimes. He had heard the whispers, and apparently the word had travelled fast and no one could trust in the spawn of such a man. And so here he was, almost a week after the ship had touched port and the captain had left a nice print of his boot on Killian's behind as a farewell: sitting in a dark corner or a dark alleyway, shivering and so hungry that the rats running around him had started to look like a decent supper. He tried to cheat his insisting stomach by thinking of other things, prettier things, like the blue waves of the sea or the daisies and lilies or his mama's face (he didn't remember his mama, but he always liked to imagine she had eyes as blue as his and hair as dark as his. Sometimes he dreamed about her, tucking him in and telling him that she loved him and that he had to stay strong.); however, the ruse was fruitless, for his stomach refused to be ignored any longer.

He heard steps approaching and hid his face in his arms, making himself even smaller against the wet stone wall. In this part of the town, it was best to be unnoticed...

"Hi," a small voice said, and his head snapped up to lock his eyes with a blonde girl of around his age. She was wearing pants and a cloak, but she was definitely a girl, and she looked a little scared. "Can you tell me where the market is? I was going there with my nana but I was so excited I ran ahead and then there were a lot of people around and I couldn't find her anywhere." Her lip trembled; she was on the verge of tears.

"Can you-" he tried, but his voice was so hoarse from lack of water that he had to clear his throat and go again. "Can you give me some food?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you must be so hungry. Here." She palmed inside her cloak and took out a shiny apple. Killian almost fainted at the sight of the red, juicy fruit, and he launched forward to take it so fast that the girl stepped back with a gasp.

"Sorry," he apologized in between bites.

She giggled. "It's okay. Can you help me find my nana? I promise that when we find her, I'll ask her to buy you a proper dinner and maybe even rent you a room at the inn."

The prospect of a real bed and actual food was too good to miss.

"Sure," he said, tossing the apple core aside, "let's go."

She extended her arm but he didn't take it, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She smiled. "My nana is a nice lady, she won't send you away if we ask her to buy you food."

He looked at her in shock. "How did you know...?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. I just knew." She waved her hand in front of him, until he took it and let her help him stand up. "Let's go."

They left the alleyway together and starting heading towards the market. It was not far away, but looking for the girl's nana among so many people was not going to be easy.

"What's your name?" she asked after a couple of minutes.

He debated whether to tell her or not, seeing that no one helped him due to his name. But she had already promised she would, so he decided to go for the truth. "Killian."

"I'm Emma," she offered, and they fell into silence again while looking for the woman in question.

After walking past the fruit stalls for the third time, the kids heard "Emma!" screamed by a woman's voice. Killian turned around to see an old woman with white hair and a friendly face running towards them. She bent and hugged Emma with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, dear child, I'm so glad you are okay! Never scare me like that again, young lady!"

"Sorry, Johanna," Emma answered. Killian smirked when he noticed that her cheeks had gone red.

"It's fine now, darling. Come, let's go back home." She grabbed her hand and they turned around, and Killian tried not to be too disappointed. Of course they'd use him, of course they wouldn't give him anything, of course she'd...

"Wait, Johanna! Wait! We have to help Killian!"

"Who?" the nana asked, stopping short.

Emma pointed at him with her thumb. "He helped me find you, and I promised you would buy him so food. Please, Nana, he's very hungry and I promised!"

He kept his eyes glued to his worn out shoes as he felt the lady's gaze intent on him.

"Where are your parents, boy?" she asked, firmly but gently at the same time.

"My mama died, madam. My papa left me a week ago."

He heard a gasp.

"And you've been living in the streets ever since?" Johanna asked.

He nodded.

"Don't you have any other family?"

"I have an older brother, but he left home last year to be a sailor and I haven't seen him since."

"What's his name?"

"Liam Jones."

There was a heavy silence falling on the three of them; Killian felt it like a noose swinging in the wind, waiting for him. Finally, he felt a finger under his chin lifting up his face until it leveled with the one of the old lady. She was smiling kindly at him.

"No kid should be starving in the streets. You have done a very good deed by helping Emma today. You can come with us, my boy, I'm sure Emma's parents will not object to that. We can provide you warm food every day and a soft bed, but you will have to work to earn it."

For the first time since he could remember, he smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. "Yes, yes, madam, thank you! I can work, I did all the house chores in my old house because we didn't have a maid. Thank you, madam!"

He turned to Emma. She was laughing and clapping and for the first time he noticed that she had a very pretty smile.

* * *

"Killian, the Queen and the King request your presence at the royal room."

He finished brushing the steed's mane and started walking towards the castle that had been his home for the last two years. Well, not the castle itself, but one of the servants' rooms annexed to it. Still, sometimes he found it hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he was working for none other than the rulers of this kingdom.

When he had walked with Emma and Johanna towards the carriage that would take him with them on that day that changed his life, he was not surprised to see that the vehicle was quite luxurious. He had already figured that Emma was part of a wealthy family (all the more reason to accept her nana's offer), but he had not thought at all that she was royalty. That is, until he looked through the window that they were crossing the majestic castle's gates.

"You're a...a princess," he had exclaimed in astonishment, and Emma was almost as crimson as the cherries Johanna had given them to eat during the journey.

"Yes," she had confirmed, as if it were something to be ashamed of.

Once inside, Johanna had told him to wait outside some big, wooden doors while she and Emma explained the situation to their Highnesses. He remembered now that he had examined in awe the rich tapestries and paintings on the walls, the sigil of the royal family, which oddly was composed of buttercups (he had thought a lion or a dragon would have made a more appropriate insignia), while waiting for the verdict.

Suddenly the wooden doors had opened and he was summoned into a great room –bigger than his old house where he had lived with his papa and with Liam– at the end of which Emma was sitting next to a man and a woman of overwhelming aspect, who were obviously her parents. He'd grown afraid, thinking that they would probably tell him to go away and maybe at best give him some bread to last him for a day or two, but then he noticed that Emma was smiling at him again, and his uneasiness had faded away.

The King had asked him the same questions the nana had (even though Killian was quite sure he already knew the answers), and the Queen had informed him that they would be delighted to have him work in the castle, and that they would have a master teach him to read and write properly. Since that day, the boy had lived comfortably, worked hard and enthusiastically to thank the royal couple for taking him in, and he had spent most of his days playing with Emma, fighting with wooden swords or reading tales of pirates.

Now he was facing the big wooden words again; it was the first time he was summoned since arriving and could not fathom the reasons behind it.

"Killian, darling. There is something we need to tell you," Queen Snow White said as soon as he entered the chamber.

"Whatever it is that's broken, I didn't do it!" he said reflexively, and they chuckled.

"You did nothing wrong, son," the King said.

"You know, when Johanna and Emma first brought you here, you told us you had an older brother. Charming – the King – and I always thought that you deserved to be with the only family you have left."

"This castle is my family," he muttered, shocked. They were going to kick him out and it hurt.

Snow smiled. "I know, and I want you to know that we love you and we are very happy with you here. We overheard the other day by chance that your brother is a sailor, Killian, and that he enrolled in the Royal Navy last year. He is in fact working for the kingdom."

"He is at a mission right now. We sent a raven to the ship he's on, explaining your situation and that you were working here in the castle, and we just got the reply. He arrives in two weeks, and he wants to meet you. He says that, if you desire to, he wants to take you in and have a job on the ships, he wants you to live with him at sea."

"That kind of life can be dangerous for a child," Snow said. "You have a safe job here, but you can also start building a promising career in the Navy, plus you'll be with your brother. I know you miss him, honey. I can see it in your face."

It was true. Killian missed Liam too much. He hadn't seen him in three years and he barely remembered his voice, but he remembered that it always soothed him when their father was having "one of his bad days".

"Please do not think that we don't want you here anymore," Charming said, looking at him with affection. "We just believe that this can be a great opportunity for your future, and we know you want to spend time with your brother. Just think about it," he said before dismissing him.

* * *

"What are you going to do?" Emma asked, her feet dangling down the entrance of the treehouse that the dwarves had built for her –for them. She was not looking at him; her eyes fixed on the horizon, where a strap of dark blue water mixed with the clear sky.

Killian sighed. "I don't know."

"Killian, you've had a month with him to figure it out, and he sets sail _tomorrow_."

"I know that!" he exclaimed, a little louder than he should have. He saw her swallow hard and sighed again. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think you can live on a ship?"

He scoffed. "I've been on a ship before."

"Yeah, but for a couple of days, not full months. They'll make you scrub the deck all day, wash their clothes, tidy up the cabins..."

"Pretty much what I do here anyways," he commented.

At that, she turned to him, green eyes wide. "I didn't know you were unhappy with your chores here."

"I'm not!" he rushed to say. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, especially because he wasn't. "I'm not, but... Emma," –he never called her Princess–, "my brother is back. Liam is back for me and he really wants me to be with him! And your mother and father are right, if I go with him and start working on the ship, I can have a career, maybe in time I'll even have a noble title. Maybe I'll be the youngest Captain in history! I can't work at the stables and the kitchen forever, I would like to have a life of adventure at sea."

Emma smiled, but it wasn't like all the pretty smiles he had seen on her face before. "It seems to me that you've already made your choice," she said bitterly.

"Why are you so upset about it?"

"Because you're abandoning me!" she screamed, and then cringed in regret.

What the hell? "That's silly, Emma. I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! You're going away and I'm staying here!"

"Ugh, you are so stubborn. I'm not leaving you, I don't want to not see you every day, you're my best friend! But I feel that my life belongs to the sea, now, Emma, not to the servants' quarters."

Emma pursed her lips and looked away. Killian could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes.

"Fine," she said, cold as ice, as she suddenly went down the ladder and jumped on the ground before running to the castle, not answering his desperate calls after her.

He went inside and informed the King and Queen he would be living with Liam from now on.

Emma didn't go to say goodbye to him before he boarded the _Jewel of the Realm_.

He was unaware then that her small silhouette running away from him would be the last he would see of her or hear from her in years.

* * *

A raven arrived to the ship, carrying a missive addressed to young Warrant Officer Jones. With Princess Emma's handwriting displayed on the rolled parchment. Killian's heart caught in his throat. Why would she write now, after so many years of silence, of now answering any of the letters he had sent her? What kind of news could that letter possibly bear?

In the five years that had passed since he started his life as a sea-boy, he had only had the chance to return to the kingdom twice –impossibly long missions that had prolonged impossibly in realms that were months away – and during neither of those times was Emma on the castle. One time, she was spending the summer at her Godmother Red's house; the other time she was on a diplomatic journey with her father. Queen Snow had greeted him warmly both times, and assured him that Emma regretted not being there to see him, and that she missed him.

Oh, how he wished he could fully believe her.

He would be lying if he said that he didn't miss her every single day; in fact, he found that as time went by, thoughts of her started occupying more and more of his time. He wondered what she looked like. Sometimes he recalled her face in his mind from around the time he had last seen her –her nine-year-old face– and tried to sharpen her features or pull her usually loose hair into an elaborate up-do like the ones he had seen the woman in court fashion. He had no doubt in his mind that she must look beautiful.

Suddenly a terrifying thought came to mind. She was fourteen now, what if her parents had betrothed her? What if his dear Emma was off to marry some old powdered buffoon with horrible manners but great wealth and alliances with the kingdom and this was her one and final farewell to him?

"Brother," Liam's voice took him out of his unwanted reveries, "what is troubling you? Bad news from the kingdom?"

"I must admit, brother, that I am afraid of opening the letter and finding out."

The older man looked at him understandingly and gave him a comforting pat on his shoulder. "Take the rest of the day off, Warrant Officer. It's an order from your Captain."

"Aye," Killian muttered before retiring to the privacy of his quarters and opening the letter with shaky hands.

_Dear Killian,_

_ First and foremost, I owe you a terribly belated apology for my behavior on the day prior to your departure. I was silly and, as you said, stubborn. I just didn't want to see you go. You were the one and only person that made life in the castle tolerable and even enjoyable, and hearing that you wanted to leave felt like treason. Of course, as time went by I understood that I was being selfish, and that you were right; going with your brother was what you needed and deserved. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't keep you with me forever._

_ Still, my pride and the lack of words from you prevented me from sending you a letter. For a long time, I was sure you were hurt and angry about my horrible manners, and rightly so. It was only yesterday that I found out that the raven keeper of the castle had intercepted all the messages you had sent me through the years, out of jealousy. Apparently he has some sort of infatuation for me, and despises you. Needless to say that he has been dismissed from his position, and father ordered him to give me all the letters he had been hiding. Reading them brought tears to my eyes. It was like coming home after a long, tiresome journey._

_ Killian, I'm so proud of you, of hearing that you are up for a most promising career in our Navy (Warrant Officer at just fourteen! By the time you come of age you will be manning your own ship!), and of reading about your adventures at sea and important missions in Agrabah and Oz. Truth be told, I'm a little jealous, too. As I grow older, my parents want me to be increasingly involved in the political affairs of the kingdom, so I have been going on diplomatic visits to other kingdoms and met many outstanding figures; and I also have been attending the balls Mother organizes –in hopes of finding prospective suitors for me, I suspect – but it is all so terribly boring! How I wish I could leave these Princess duties behind and sail away with you and your brother's crew._

_ I must stop writing now. I hope you can forgive me for my horrible manners back then and for my prolonged silence. I know you are away in a years-long mission and that I will not be able to see your face in a long time –even longer time– but I would love that we could keep in touch. I miss you terribly. Every single day._

_ Love,_

_ Emma_

* * *

Killian had faced ruthless pirates, demonic storms and mythical creatures that he had previously been sure were only the product of someone's imagination; yet he had never been as terrified as he was now, as he rode his black steed down the estranged yet familiar path and made it to the castle gates.

Five years since he had last been here. Nine since he had last seen her.

Unable to enter the castle and face her just yet, he took a detour through the gardens. It was springtime and flowers of every color and shape and perfume were blossoming everywhere. He smiled at the memory of cutting one to present it to Emma on her eight birthday, and how the master gardener had yelled at him for fifteen full minutes. It had been worth it.

His feet unconsciously took him to the tree where their wooden treehouse still stood. He looked up at it fondly. It hosted so many memories, both happy and bitter.

"Do you think we still fit in there?" a voice called from behind, and he stiffened. It was her voice; different, but still unmistakably hers.

"I don't know," he said, eyes fixed on the structure. "There's only one way to find out."

Killian turned around and saw Emma for the first time in almost a decade. And his heart did a summersault in his chest. She was a few inches shorter than he was, and was sporting a beige shirt with a black leather corset that hugged her waist and accented her beautiful curves, and brown riding pants and boots. Her golden hair was loose, flowing in soft waves down her back up to her waist. Her warm green eyes were soft, and she was gracing him with a beautiful grin. Emma had grown into a stunning young woman, living up to her fame of being the fairest of them all, just like her mother.

"Princess," he addressed once he recovered the ability to speak, and bowed lightly.

"Lieutenant," she replied with a curtsy, before running to him and throwing herself at his arms with a bubbly laugh.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her close, twirling her around in the air. When he finally set her on the ground again, he kept his arms loosely around her waist, and she rested her hands on his shoulders. He thought that the perpetual smile on her face mimicked his own.

"Well didn't you turn into a handsome young sailor," she praised, lifting one eyebrow.

"During my travels I heard many a tale about how there was no beauty in any realm that could beat the daughter of the Charming royals. And they were all true."

She slapped his shoulder lightly, but he saw a faint blush color her cheeks.

"Let's get into our safe haven," she suggested, pulling away from him –Why did he feel so cold and empty out of the sudden?-, and climbing the tree before disappearing inside the little wooden house. "What are you waiting for?" she called him from inside.

Shaking his head, he climbed after her and made it into the small space. "It's going to be a tight fit in here," he commented, trying to find a comfortable position to sit, which was quite difficult because he had to keep his head bent so as not to hit the ceiling.

"I'm not complaining," she said, and he could swear that her laugh was having a more terrible effect on him that the sirens with their alluring songs. "So, my predictions about you have come true. Lieutenant Killian Jones, soon to be named Captain at the tender age of eighteen."

"The youngest Captain in history," he agreed, shifting uncomfortably under her proud gaze.

"Just like you had told me you would be, all those years ago in this very spot."

He smiled, looking down. "You remember."

"I remember everything about us. Every conversation we've had ever since I asked you to help me find my nana in that town."

"So do I," he confessed. He fidgeted with his hands on the coat of his uniform. "I have dreamed about seeing you again so many nights, Emma."

"Me too, Killian," she whispered, inching closer and grabbing his hand in hers.

He was not stranger to being around female company; in fact, he had had many a wench during his years stationed at different ports –Liam had insisted on making a man out of him- but that simple, innocent touch from her was both soothing and exhilarating.

He maneuvered his hand so their fingers were intertwining and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. They stayed in comfortable silence for a few moments before Emma broke it.

"How long are you staying on leave?"

"About three months."

Her hand squeezed his. "Good."

* * *

Killian was on his way to the room where the royals held their audiences when he saw the doors open up and Sir Baelfire storm out of the room down the corridor, looking terribly affronted. He had seen the man around in the castle during the time he'd been staying there on leave –the Queen had insisted he used the room destined for their guests of honor – and he considered him too pompous and too clumsy. Seconds later, Emma left the room too, with an expression of anger in her face. Her eyes instantly found his, and he noticed that she was on the verge of tears. She bit her trembling lip and started running, taking the opposite direction Baelfire had.

Without even realizing it he went after her. He found her just where he knew she'd be.

Under their tree.

Her back was turned to him, but he could see by the shaking of her shoulders that she was crying, and his fists clenched. He had never seen her cry.

"Emma..." he called softly, unsure of what to say and what to do.

"He proposed," she answered his unasked question in between sobs. Killian felt despair creep over him and seize his heart.

"And?"

She turned around to face him. Her nose and cheeks were red and tears were flowing from her eyes and she had never looked so beautiful. "And I said no. Mother and Father are furious because his father would be an invaluable ally for the kingdom and he's a man who we should not have as an enemy and sir Baelfire is charming and handsome and has wealth and he is the perfect suitor for a princess but I said no, because I don't want to marry him. Because he's not you."

He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs wiping away her tears, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "I was on my way to ask your hand in marriage when I saw you, love."

She pulled away just enough to lock her hopeful eyes with his. "Really?"

"Of course, you stubborn, magnificent lass," he chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. "Although I think now would not be an appropriate time."

She laughed again, her arms coming around his waist to hold him close to her. "Maybe you should try to ask them tomorrow."

* * *

"And that, lassie, is the story of how Daddy met Mommy," Killian said to the sleepy four-year-old girl in his arms. He turned his head to kiss Emma softly on the lips before getting up to place little Mia on her bed and tuck her in. "Sweet dreams now, my little love."

Killian Jones had had many titles during his still short life. Son of a criminal, former street arab, former servant, Captain of the Royal Navy and prince consort. However, as he grabbed Emma's hand to take her to their bed, he thought that the ones he enjoyed the most were husband, and dad. All thanks to a lost little girl asking for directions from a lost little boy. Neither of them was lost anymore; they had found their home in each other.

It had taken them their sweet time, but it was worth it.


	15. A sight to behold

**Prompt by 4UISUNI2 on : "I was wondering if you would do a one shot of Charming and Killian seeing Emma in Snow's wedding dress? Just a kind of dress up one shot, no ball and no one getting married."**

**a/n: got a little feelsy, me thinks. Oopsie. But then it gets very fluffy so I think you'll forgive me. Happy New Year, everyone!**

* * *

"Your Majesty, her Highness the Queen requests your presence in her chambers immediately," one of her maids said sheepishly after a few knocks on her door and entering without waiting for Emma to let her in.

"Uhm, yeah. Sure," Emma replied, reluctantly putting down the very ancient and precious book about the history of the realms and the kingdoms of the Enchanted Forest (one of whose founding fathers had been freaking Merlin, as if things couldn't get more weird around) that Regina had given her a few days after their final arrival to the magical land to help her understand it a little better (it had yet to fulfil such purpose, but at least it was an interesting way to pass their over-abundant time now that ding dong the Witch was dead and all the remaining ogres had been done for).

Suddenly Emma remembered that her baby brother or sister had just a few weeks left before coming to the world to meet them all, and she panicked, running through the castle to Snow's chambers, mentally bracing herself to see her mother in the middle of early labor.

She opened the doors so forcefully that for a moment she thought she had broken the hinges, only to find her very pregnant mother sitting on a huge armchair sipping a cup of tea, the personification of peace. Emma felt a little (a lot) like a fool.

"What happened?"

Snow looked confused. "What happened what?"

"Well, one of the girls told me to come here ASAP, that you wanted to see me."

"Oh, that," Snow winced, looking guilty. "I'm sorry, but it's the only way I could come up with so that you would actually come and do me this favor-"

"Which favor?" Emma asked a little too harshly.

"Oh, it's not a big deal, sweetheart. I just..." she paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "I was just going through my old closet to make an inventory of the garments I owned that survived the first curse, and I found my old wedding dress. I wanted to wear it for our first ball here next month but I'm obviously not going to fit," she rubbed her swollen belly for emphasis, "so I was wondering if you would like to try it on and see if it fits you."

She had said everything so fast, as if yearning to get it over with, that it took Emma a minute or two to actually grasp what her mother had just said.

"What? Mary Margaret!" she exclaimed, making the other woman cringe, but she didn't feel sorry about it.

She actually felt kind of angry and hurt. It hurt that after everything that had happened, everything they'd been through, it seemed that Mary Margaret still did not understand her daughter. Despite having told her so many times, Emma noticed that Mary Margaret kept trying to apply her fairytale life to Emma's, not realizing that the upbringing of both women couldn't have been more different. She didn't blame her and understood where these requests were coming from, but Emma's patience was wearing a bit thin. She'd been in the Enchanted Forest for over a month and still wore her read leather jacket when she got the chance. The only pieces of clothing from this realm she had started to wear were riding outfits because they were what resembled modern clothes the most. Snow knew how heatedly Emma had rejected the idea of wearing a corset, and now she was asking her to wear a white wedding dress? _Her_ wedding dress?

"I know," her mother said in a weak voice. "I know, Emma, that you hate that, that getting used to life here is much harder than we all thought it would be to you, but... Emma, I never got the chance to see you in a beautiful gown, with your hair on a braided do, dancing on a ball. Having fun. Being who you were supposed to be, who you would have been if we had been together and curse-less. I will probably get to do that with this new child to come, but that will never, _ever_ replace the void in my heart for all the years we lost. And I know it's an incredibly selfish thing to ask you to do, but I want you to wear my wedding dress just for a few hours, so I can admire you and see how beautiful you are and imagine that you are a happy princess raised in our kingdom, that it's always been like that for the three of us."

Tears were running down her mother's face, and Emma belatedly noticed that there was moist in her cheeks as well. She had not expected that emotional outpour, but it was something that had been hanging tense in the air between she and her parents for some time now, and hearing it felt strangely soothing. She slowly walked forward and bent down to hug her mother.

"I'm sorry. I'll wear the dress. It's okay." She kept whispering soothing words while her mother sobbed against her shoulder.

Eventually, Snow pulled apart slowly and gave her an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry too. Hormones. I'm a mess."

They both chuckled at that before Emma stood up and let the maids doll her up under her mother's loving smile.

* * *

It could have been worse. It could have been much worse, Emma reasoned as she stared at the unrecognizable woman looking at her from the mirror. In fact, this wasn't quite bad. The corset was not too tight, and the fit was almost perfect (which made Snow break into another sobbing round). The layered white skirt which sported the same kind of soft feathers that decorated the cleavage line of the top didn't feel too heavy, and caressed her legs in a pleasant way every time she moved. The maids had also braided her hair and turned the braid into an intricate bun in the lower portion of the back of her head. Staring at herself in the mirror, Emma couldn't help but also try to imagine the kind of woman she would be now, used to the puffy dresses and hairdos and balls and the court and living in a castle and ruling a kingdom. That woman wouldn't be as freaked out as she was now at looking like a _proper_ princess should do, but if there was anything Emma Swan could do in her life, it was to adapt. It would take her some time (quite a long time), but she would adapt to the dresses and the princess life. Until the next catastrophe unleashed, that was.

A sharp knock on the door brought her out of her reverie.

Charming's voice could be heard through the thick wooden door. "Snow, are you there? We're waiting for you and Emma for the council."

Emma's eyes widened in panic and she shook her head fervently to her mother, silently telling her that she didn't want to be seen sporting these looks. Snow, of course, paid no attention whatsoever to her.

"We're both here! Come in!"

The door opened and Emma had to ball her hands into tight fists and plant her feet on the stone ground in order to resist the temptation of throwing herself out of the window of the tower.

Charming paused in mid-step to stare at her daughter with his jaw hanging open and his eyes twinkling with love, and, much to her dismay, a second man collided abruptly against her father's back and cursed him for stopping so suddenly, but then his cerulean eyes focused on her and his expression mimicked David's.

Three pairs of intense eyes focused on her and she felt more self-conscious by the second, feeling like she was in display. She rocked her heels forth and back and cleared her throat lightly to make them stop.

David was the first one to recover. "You look so beautiful, sweetheart."

She gave him a small smile in return. He must have sensed her discomfort (how could someone _not_ sense it?) because he muttered something about giving her a minute to change before reuniting with them at the meetings room and then left with Snow in tow.

Killian had yet to close his mouth.

She would have found it adorable and empowering if it weren't so disturbing and if she weren't so freaked out.

Finally, he shook his head lightly and his eyebrows made a slow descent from his hairline to their usual position, and he coughed a little to try to cover his shock.

"So what's the occasion, love?" he asked as casually as he could, but Emma noticed the barely concealed huskiness in his voice. She had to admit that it was doing funny things to her.

She shrugged. "Nothing in particular. I guess that Mary Margaret's is high on hormones and too emotional so she felt the need to see me wearing her wedding dress."

He stepped a little bit closer. "Well, my dearest, you are a sight to behold." He brushed his fingertips against her bare shoulder and she had to suppress a shiver. "This is a wedding dress, you say?"

Emma raised her eyebrow. "Don't let that get any ideas into your head, Hook."

A flash of something unrecognizable sparked in his eyes for a second before it was gone. "No, of course not, love."

She noticed the apprehension in him as he withdrew his hand from her shoulder and stepped back, eyes intent on the floor. It only took her a second or two to figure it out.

"Oh, God," she whispered, not trusting her voice to speak louder, "you _already_ had those ideas in your head."

He gave her an apologetic smile, and Emma could have sworn his cheeks were a tad redder. "You already know how I feel about you, Emma. And well, what can I say? I'm an old-fashioned man," he chuckled nervously before sobering and locking eyes with her. "But don't worry, and don't get scared; I know it's way too soon for any of that."

She knew he had loved her for a long time and waited for her for a whole year, but she was just beginning to let herself acknowledge her own feelings for him, and they had only had a handful of encounters to deal with it. They hadn't even reached third base yet. 'Too soon to be thinking of marriage' was the understatement of the era.

"Yeah, you're right about that," she croaked.

As if a switch had been flicked inside him, all his shyness left the building and was replaced by his usual bravado as he smirked at her and moved closer to her again.

"It's alright, Emma. By now you should know that if anything, I am a very patient man." He leaned in and kissed her softly, lips moving lovingly against hers as his hand caressed her cheek. "Change your clothes now, darling. I'll see you at the council in a few minutes." With that, he left her alone in the room, confused and flustered.

* * *

That night, Emma dreamed about walking through the greatest room of the castle, surrounded by her loved ones, wearing her mother's dress again. Killian was waiting for her next to Henry, looking sinfully gorgeous in his nobleman's clothes. They whispered words of love to each other, exchanged rings and kissed passionately under the cheers and applause of hundreds of people. She was happier than she had been in a long, long time.

She woke up the next morning with a huge smile on her face.


	16. Flying sparks

**As a New Year's Eve/New Year present, I bring thee smut. Hogwarts style. It can be read as a continuation of my "Under your Spell" three-shot (chapters 5, 6 and 7 here), but I think it can also be read by itself and make sense. Dedicated to my soulmatey Carmina because she actually asked me for a smut OS in this AU like 546545314545 months ago. Sorry for the tardiness! Love you all, and thanks for everything!**

* * *

Emma hadn't even noticed that she had closed her eyes and was falling asleep until a hot sensation against her thigh brought her back to reality with a start. Luckily, Snape hadn't realized yet. As stealthily as possible, she put her hand in her robe pocket and withdrew the scorching object that had woken her up. It was the nicked Galleon that Killian had given her a couple of months ago. Killian had a similar one, and he had enchanted them so that they could write messages in one coin and the other could see the text in theirs. He had also nicked one side of each Galleon to distinguish them, and to avoid accidentally spending them. Sometimes Emma was truly amazed at Killian's wit and talent.

Right now, she had to resort to _her own_ talent of keeping a detached, stony expression because his message had all the potential to make her blush and squeal and giggle like an idiot, and she absolutely did not want to do that in front of the Potions professor. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheeks, put the Galleon back into her pocket and started scribbling absentmindedly in her parchment, her whole focus set on counting the minutes before the period was over so she could meet her boyfriend.

After their first (and second, and third, and fourth) kiss during the Christmas Ball, they had become almost inseparable. They spent most of their free time together in between classes and on weekends, and he had taken her to a real date to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day because "the lady Swan deserved to be pampered with all the ridiculous clichés of that particular holiday" (and he really meant all the clichés: they had ended up in a rented room above the Three Brooms, and it had been insanely hot and extremely sweet and romantic at the same time, which until then Emma was not sure could happen. Apparently it could. Maybe it was because it was _him_ and _her_.). At first Emma thought she'd feel more apprehensive about the idea of being with someone, of having someone who cared about her so deeply (deeper than she had initially thought, she soon found out), but being around Killian and with Killian felt so oddly natural, unconsciously grabbing his hand as they walked around the gardens felt familiar and warm. She was well aware that they were steadily competing to overthrow Snow and David as the sappiest couple of the school, but she couldn't bring herself to care. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly happy (and Neal had graciously backed off upon his return from the Christmas holidays and consequent learning of Emma and Jones being an item, which was also a plus).

Finally, Snape dismissed the class and Emma had to make a conscious effort to walk out of the dungeons at a normal pace and not sprint out and run marathon-style to the Great Hall. In the middle of the sea of students rushing out of the classrooms, she felt a strong hand grip her wrist and yank her to the side, easily moving her because she hadn't been expecting it. She barely suppressed a yelp as she was being tugged inside a classroom and the door had locked behind her. Turning around, her heart flipped in her chest at the sight of Killian, leaning casually against the locked door of the empty classroom as if he hadn't practically abducted her seconds before.

"Fancy seeing you here, Swan," he said, smirking.

"The feeling is mutual, Jones. Although I would have preferred you not trying to rip my arm off."

"I haven't seen you since before the Easter holidays. I've been Swan-deprived for a whole ten days. You can't blame me for being eager to see you again," he said, voice low and husky, approaching her and running his hands up and down her sides. His head leaned down until his nose brushed hers and suddenly the temperature in the room had increased considerably. "Have you not missed me?" He whispered in her ear before biting it softly, and that was _it._

Emma grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him down for a searing kiss. She had missed him, dammit. Their tongues tangled, their hands caressed and tugged and travelled, and suddenly she was being propped up a desk, with him standing between her open legs and pressing into her. She let out a weak disappointed whine when he pulled apart abruptly, and he chuckled as he withdrew an old yellow parchment from an inner pocket of his robes. He touched it with his wand and murmured "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" with such a hurried and breathless voice that she had to put her hand in front of her mouth to cover her laugh.

"Coast clear," he murmured before folding the Marauder's Map again (it was his greatest secret, and it made Emma strangely proud that he had shared it with her; when she'd asked where he had got it, he'd simply smirked and attributed it to his 'magical hands'). "Mischief managed," he claimed, touching the map with his wand to erase all traces of ink, then he looked at her with lust-filled eyes. "Well, about to be managed."

He leaned in again but she put a hand in front of her to stop him. "We shouldn't do this here."

He groaned. "Emma, I just checked, this whole wing of the castle is empty, and the door is locked and I placed a spell on it so no one can open it."

"The ghosts still can come in. Do you really want Peeves telling the whole school that he caught us having sex in a classroom?"

He sighed, frustration evident in him. "The Room of Requirement?"

Emma nodded and smiled apologetically. "It's the safest way."

"But we have to climb four floors, Swan!"

She knew she was torturing him (and herself, because hey, she had needs too and his presence was always like an electric shock that was now intensified after not seeing each other for so long), but she really did not want anyone interrupting them. She leaned closer and placed an open-mouthed kiss under his jaw.

"Good things come for those who wait," she purred in his ear, putting special emphasis on the third word.

He bit his lip and whined. "You're worse than a Cruciatus, Swan." But he stepped back to allow her to climb down the desk and together they took the shortest cut to the seventh floor. They paced thrice past the wall on the left corridor, their minds intent on their common purpose, and a door suddenly appeared on the wall before them. As soon as they disappeared through it, they wasted no time in attacking each other again, lips fastened together and moving eagerly, tongues tasting as Emma's hands moved to undo Killian's Slytherin tie and his own hands cupped her ass and brought her closer until there was no space between them.

He moved them until Emma's legs collided against a wooden surface and she fell back, landing on a soft mattress. She pulled apart from Killian just enough to pass the loosened tie through his head as he did the same with her crimson one, and then his mouth shot down to her neck and pulse point, making her moan. Her fingers worked the clasps of his robe, which slid down his arms, leaving him on his white shirt and grey trousers which did little to cover his arousal. In turned, Killian rolled them over so she was on top of him and sat up to keep kissing her as he undressed her.

Soon they were only in their underwear, and he was hissing as Emma bit one of his nipples hard and then soothed it with her tongue, one of her hands tugging his hair as the other made a slow descent south.

"Em-ma!" he rasped when her hand closed around him and started moving up and down.

"I did say good things come for those who wait, now didn't I?" she retorted with a smirk as she started kissing her way down his dark-haired chest until she yanked down his boxers and her mouth replaced her hand on him and around him.

"_Fuck,_" he cursed, hips bucking up and trying to get deeper into her mouth. She pressed her hands on his stomach to keep him steady as she moved her head up and down, applying pressure with her lips and tongue. She had never done this before, but she'd fantasized about it during the Easter break when they were apart. Her eyes flicked to his face and she could see that he was enjoying this, and, to be honest, so was she.

"Emma, stop," he begged after a few minutes, and she could feel him reaching his impending peak.

"It's okay, Killian," she whispered, sending her hot breath to his tip before kissing it and wrapping her lips around him again. Soon enough she felt him pulse and tense, and seconds later she kept moving up and down his length as she swallowed his release. She let him go with a wet pop and kissed his panting chest.

"You're bloody brilliant...amazing," he said raggedly, making her chuckle with satisfaction. "Let me take care of you know."

She quirked her eyebrow skeptically even though she had never been more turned on. "Will you, now?"

He smirked. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?"

Her reply died on her lips and was replaced by a soft gasp as his mouth closed around one of her nipples and his fingers teased her entrance.

"So wet already...my dirty little witch."

He plunged two fingers in, assaulting all her senses as they moved in sync with his tongue on her breasts. Soon enough, Emma felt her back arch and her ass leave the bed with her sudden jerks as her orgasm hit her hard, prolonged by Killian's unforgiving fingers inside her. She still hadn't come down from her high when she felt his tip brush her over-sensitive core. She moaned and he cursed again, filling her to the hilt. He felt so big inside her as he moved with sharp, deep thrusts that Emma's whole body hummed, and her second peak caught her by surprise only a few minutes later. With a groan, Killian followed her and collapsed on top of her.

"We should go back," Emma reluctantly said once her heartbeat went back to normal.

"Or we can stay here a little while longer," he replied, hugging her to him and burying his head in her neck.

"It's almost dinner time, and I'm starving," Emma protested, although his proposal was quite tantalizing.

"Well, I am starving, too," he purred, trailing a finger up and down the valley of her breasts.

She pushed him again gently with a chuckle and got up to retrieve her uniform. "If you're like this after just ten days, how the hell do you plan to go through the summer holidays?"

He groaned. "Why did you remind me of that?"

She kissed his pouting lips. "Come on, Casanova. Let's go grab a bite and then, if you are a good boy, we can come here for another round before curfew."


	17. Captain What?

**Summary: Emma Swan is just an ordinary girl doing what she can to survive. Her life changes when she sees herself involved in unexplainable events and meets a strange man that calls himself The Captain.**

**A/N: Here it is, my Doctor Who! AU. I apologize if this turns out to be complete crap, I find it quite challenging to write science fiction in Doctor Who style. Anyways, the idea hit me and it wouldn't leave me alone, so here it is. I hope you like it! Please give me your feedback, it's much appreciated!**

* * *

Emma slammed close the front door of the crappy motel where she was staying; the shouts of the owner, telling her in an entirely not subtle way that if she didn't pay her share that night he would make her get the money with some the greasy guys that frequented the place, he would kick her out of her room.

She needed a way out, there was no way she was going to go back to that hellhole. So she did what she had done all her life: she started wandering around.

Ever since coming of age and leaving the orphanage, she had managed to scrape through by getting part-time jobs that merely got her any money, and stealing to cover for the rest. She'd rented the cheapest rooms she could find in places where she had previously made sure that she wouldn't end up raped or in a bathtub full of ice and sans a kidney. She'd been staying in this particular place for months, but she'd been kicked out of her waitressing job at the diner and she hadn't stolen enough wallets to cover her debts.

After walking around town all day until her feet were sore, Emma saw a bright spot at the end of a dark, empty alley. As we got closer, she realized that it was a yellow VW Bug, apparently abandoned. That would suffice. She could sell it or just drive it to another town and start over, or if it didn't work, she could always get some good money by selling it as junk or at the spare parts illegal market.

It was too good an opportunity to miss it.

After a quick peak around to make sure there were no witnesses, Emma approached the car and extracted a crowbar from the inside of her leather jacket. After a few tries, she succeeded in opening the door and used a screwdriver she was hiding inside her boot to turn the ignition on.

The engine roared and her heart flipped in her chest, her veins pumping with the adrenaline. This was amazing, it was the perfect way to get rid of the disgusting motel and its drunken clients. It was-

"Impressive," a voice said from behind her. A male voice. "But it's easier to use the keys."

Panicked, she turned around and saw that a guy was lying on the back seat, his arm now extended, presenting her the car keys. He must have been four or five years older than her, olive skin, shiny brown eyes matching the color of his hair, amused smirk.

She snatched the keys from his hand and turned off the car. "What the hell are you doing there?!"

"Hey, don't get offended, princess. I was here before you arrived. I stole this baby first."

"You're telling me that I stole a stolen car?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow in disbelief.

Un-fucking-believable.

He chuckled and his eyes scanned her figure intensely. "Tell me, aren't you afraid of going out on your own? Haven't you heard of the wave of missing girls in town?"

She didn't have anyone to care for her if something happened to her, but she didn't need to tell the creepy cute stranger that. "I can take care of myself," she said instead, voice firm and hand cradling her crowbar.

"Yeah, I can see that. Now, how about we discuss this car thing over some beers?"

* * *

After the third mug of beer, they reached an agreement. He would let her sleep in the front seat of the car and promise not to make a move on her, and she'd be his partner for his petty crimes. He claimed that they 'had so much they could learn from the other and by combining forces they could soon steal enough money to get away from the city and start over, together or apart, as she preferred'.

After a few days it proved to be quite an easy-to-follow agreement.

His name was Neal, and Emma didn't find him so creepy anymore.

* * *

Emma woke up due to the insisting tap on the car window. She looked up to see Neal grinning at her from ear to ear, clearly excited. Which meant only one thing: he had spotted a great opportunity.

She opened the door and he sat on the driver's seat.

"Babe, I got it. Finally, the chance to get the hell away from here."

"Well, what is it?" she asked, anxious.

"There's this electric appliances store that I've been watching for some time. It has no alarms and I just overheard the owner talking on the phone about his security cameras not working and having someone come over to repair them tomorrow. At night the idiot only locks the door, he doesn't even have bars on the window panes. We have to have a go at it tonight."

"That's amazing!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah," he said, and his smile faltered a little bit. "there's only one problem, though."

"Which one?"

"Well, the owner already spotted me once or twice loitering around his store. If we wait for him to close his store and he sees me around, he'll call the police on us and then-"

"Then I'll do it."

His eyes widened. "You'd do that?"

She nodded with determination and then smiled. "Of course. If it's our ticket to have new lives, I'll do it. It'll be easy enough, it seems."

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her on the lips. "Awesome. This is it, Emma. This is it."

* * *

She waited for an entire hour to pass after the old man locked the store and went away. The night was cold and the streets were completely empty when Emma got out of the Bug and stealthily walked to the shop's front door. It took some time to undo all the locks, but it was not impossible. Breathing deeply to calm her racing heart, she carefully opened the door, and exhaled relieved when no sound came. Neal was right; there were no alarms.

She opened her canvas bag and started walking around, looking for the smaller supplies that she could put in there, like cordless telephones and cellphones. Neal would be coming in fifteen minutes to load the bigger stuff into the truck of the Bug.

She was trying to get the zipper work to close the too full bag when the lights suddenly flicked on and Emma gasped, bolting to her feet and extracting her faithful crowbar to use as a weapon. She turned around and saw the owner of the store standing a few feet away from her, pointing a gun at her.

But it wasn't a normal gun, it looked like a childs toy. Except that it was buzzing and she could see electricity waves travelling to and from the two metal bars on its tip. She'd never seen anything like that before.

"But that down, sweetheart," he commanded in a disturbingly calm voice.

"I don't think so," she answered, and in a fit of stupid boldness, she raised the stakes and tried to call his bluff. "You're not gonna shoot me with that toy."

He pointed the gun from her and at a medium sized television set, and pulled the trigger.

The television melted instantaneously.

"This is not a toy, honey."

"What the fucking hell is that?"

"You better do as he says," another voice called, a familiar voice, and Emma felt her soul sink.

Neal appeared from the back door from which the owner must have entered without her noticing. He was carrying one of the weird weapons as well.

"You tricked me?" she whispered in horror as realization sank in. She had never felt more stupid in her life.

"Put down the crowbar," he merely answered.

Blinded with rage and humiliation, she threw it at him with a growl, but he just shot at it and it disintegrated mid-air.

She was screwed.

She was so damn screwed.

"Strong little one you got there, brother," the old man said, appraising her with his eyes. Brother? He seemed at least forty years older than Neal! "Once she's subdued, she will make an excellent vessel for our issue."

"Excuse you?" She was definitely not going to be a surrogate for a couple of guys who must certainly had had escaped the psych ward.

"I would have brought her to you earlier, brother, but I had to make her trust me and concoct this robbery scheme to make her come here. She's a hard nut to crack," Neal said calmly.

"You both are insane," she muttered. She wanted to run the hell away but her feet seemed cemented to the ground.

"Tie her and take her down with the others. We'll only need three more before we can carry out our fertility tests with them."

"You will not do such thing," a different voice, deep and accented, claimed.

Emma dared to turn around to see the new addition to this madmen charade, and what she saw blew her out her mind. It was a man, probably a little older than Neal. He was tall and lean, had black hair and a stubble on his too handsome face. His eyes were blue and electric, and they right now they were set on the pair behind Emma, intense and hard. He was wearing a long and heavy black leather coat with huge brass buttons, and leather pants, resembling a kind of modern punk pirate. He was pointing a strange object at them, like a wand made of metal, the tip of which shone with a blue light.

"Who are you?" the older man said, directing his gun towards the leather-clad pirate.

"Your doom," he replied. He pointed his metal tool to the gun. It started making a wheezing sound and, to Emma's astonishment, the device-melting weapon's electricity current died with a short circuit.

Both Neal and the shop owner looked at the other man in shock and fear for a moment before Neal stepped forward.

"Even if you kill us now, our mission to spread our kind in this planet will not end with us. Others will come, hundreds of others. This has just started."

"And I am afraid that it's going to end up here as well." The handsome (it was not the time to focus on that, precisely, but it was kind of impossible not to notice) stranger said, his harmless-looking-but-obviously-powerful wand pointed at the men's heads. It buzzed and wheezed again, and Emma saw as their eyes widened and their bodies shook as if they were being electrocuted. They fell on their knees at the same time and stayed like that for a few seconds. When they looked up, they looked confused and fearful. Much to Emma's disbelief, the up until then arrogant and harmful men (where they really men?) let out piercing screams and shrills and ran away from the place as fast as they could.

Rooted to her spot, Emma slowly dragged her hand up her other arm and pinched it hard. She screamed in pain.

"Am I on drugs?" she asked out loud, feeling completely disoriented with the events of the last half an hour.

She yelped when she heard the man in leather answering. "Nope, you are just fine. Your first encounter with aliens can be traumatizing, especially if they were planning to kidnap you and impregnate you with their offspring."

Ew.

"What the hell did you do to them?" She asked, feeling like her sanity was balancing on the tight rope.

"Xytrarox are a race that is 99% composed of different gases that have to be contained in living vessels. At coming to this planet, they had to occupy human bodies in order to survive. I sonicked an electromagnetic wave that made some of those gases combust with each other, altering their minds and giving me the possibility to implant in them the idea that the Earth is the most unfit planet of the Universe to carry out their fertility schemes and they have to leave immediately. Easy as pie."

"Huh."

Because that made total sense.

"Anyway," the hot stranger said, clapping his hands, "my work here is done. I'll bid you goodbye now, Miss."

He turned to leave, but Emma caught the sleeve of his leather jacket to hold him in place.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she exclaimed, which made him turn around to face her with a quirked eyebrow. "Listen, pal, I just found out that my boyfriend, the only guy who ever cared about me or so I thought, was actually a gassy alien tricking me to fertilize me and carry his gassy alien babies, and you suddenly appear out of nowhere, send them away and try to escape yourself as well as if nothing had happened? Don't you think I deserve to know what the effing crap is going on?"

He seemed shocked by her speech. She didn't care; she was angry, frustrated and confused. After a few seconds, his expression softened.

"You are right, lass. My apologies. Okay, what do you want to know?"

She didn't even hesitate with her first question.

"Who are you?"

His chest puffed with pride, but there was something off in his eyes. "The Captain."

"Captain what?"

He smiled mirthlessly. "Just the Captain."

She felt he was mocking her. "So you don't have a name?"

"Where I come from, there comes a time in which you choose your own name, and that name defines you, who you are, what you do. I was in charge of the largest fleet this Universe has seen...once upon a time." His expression turned somber and his eyes cast down, he suddenly looked incredibly sad. Emma could tell that something terrible, something that had scarred him deeply had happened.

"What happened to it?"

"It's gone," he said harshly, looking down. "Everyone's gone."

That, she could relate to.

However, the pang of hurt in her chest at seeing his heartbroken expression was quite unexpected.

"Are you...are you an alien too?" she asked.

He nodded. "A Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. The last one left."

"And what do you do all by yourself?" she asked, although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer: Wander around, survive. Just like her.

"I travel through space and time, sometimes for leisure, sometimes because I detect anomalies related to aliens and I try to fix them, like today," he gave her a soft smile, and suddenly his whole demeanor changed, his face lighting up like a kid's on Christmas morning. "Would you like to see my ship?"

His smile was so radiant and appealing and he seemed so enthusiastic that Emma found it impossible to reject his suggestion. Plus, she was actually quite curious about the whole thing.

"Sure," she said, and belatedly realized that she was smiling back.

"Brilliant," he said, chuckling as he grabbed her hand in his. "Come, let's go."

He was tugging her towards the door, but suddenly Emma remembered something and stopped short.

"Wait!"

"What is it?" He looked...wounded?

"There are other women locked somewhere by the ET psychos. We need to find them and free them."

He stared at her with his intense blue eyes burning her face, his expression unreadable. She belatedly realized that her hand was still encased in his bigger, warmer one.

"Too right, lass," he agreed, taking out his strange metal wand thing and pointing it at random places around the room. The wand, again, produced a blue light on its tip and a strange sound.

"What is that thing?"

"A sonic screwdriver."

"What does it do?"

"Stuff."

"Gee, how helpful," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled. "Right now it's scanning the place searching for human life forms apart from you, lassie. Ah! Down the basement!"

Emma didn't see any doors around, but the Captain ran to a corner of the room and pushed aside the thick stripped carpet, revealing a wooden trap door. He opened it and disappeared down the ladder, followed by Emma. They landed in a small, barely lit room. It was very small and the only thing around was a wooden door. She waited for him to open that too with his sonic tool, but he just rocked, shifting the balanced from one feet to the other.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Aren't you gonna sonic your way in?"

"Oh, yes, that. Nope. It doesn't do wood."

"Excuse me?"

He looked sheepish. "My screwdriver. It doesn't do wood."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"So you can change the brain of aliens, overrule their super weapons and scan human life forms but you cannot open a freaking wooden door?"

"Pretty much, yeah," he said nonchalantly.

She groaned. "Alright. Move."

She pushed him aside lightly and extracted her small (regular, Earthy) screwdriver and a couple of bobby pins from her hair and set to work. In just a few minutes, the door creaked open.

"There," she said, quite satisfied with her work. She turned around to see him staring at her again, with an expression of awe.

"It seems we make quite the team," the Captain said, sending her a breathtaking smile that did not make her all warm inside. Nope. Not at all.

"Sure, you sonic stuff and I take care of the wood." She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth, and glared at his quirked eyebrow and smirk. "Stop it. That came out wrong."

"I'm not opposed to the idea, though."

She jabbed him in the ribs but not too hard. She should have been furious with his blunt innuendo, but somehow she was not. It felt oddly natural. She pushed the door open and palmed the wall until she came across a switch. She turned on the lights and saw three young girls around her age, maybe a few years older. They were laying on the ground, apparently sleep or unconscious.

"Do you think they already used them?" Emma whispered.

The Captain shook his head. "They were gathering all the needed subjects before carrying out the experiment. They're probably in an induced sleep."

He bent down and shook one of the girls' shoulder until she groaned and opened her eyes.

"Lass? Wake up, lass, your captors are gone. We're taking you out of here."

"O-okay," she stuttered, looking at the Captain as if he were an angel.

Emma, in the meantime, set to wake the other two girls, and the three Sleeping Beauties watched at the Captain intently as he explained that their kidnappers had been arrested and they were free to go, but Emma was pretty sure they weren't listening to a word he was saying and were focusing solely on his pretty mouth moving.

It annoyed her terribly.

Once the five of them made it up the ladder and out of the place, each of the three went on her way, all of them still feeling confused but eager to get away pronto.

"So," the Captain said once he and Emma were alone again. "Still want to see my ship?"

"Totally."

He grinned. "Excellent." He grabbed her hand again and guided her across the street and through the park, to a lonely corner of the area. "Here."

She looked around, expecting to see a UFO, but the streets (and sky) were empty. "Where?"

"Right in front of you."

Her eyebrows scrunched together. The only thing in front of her was...

"A police phone box?"

He seemed offended by her lack of exhilaration. "Well, it's disguised as one to go unnoticed."

"And you travel here?" Emma asked, walking around the blue box. "Evidently you are not claustrophobic at all."

He huffed at her mocking and produced a key from his pocket to unlock it. "Get in."

Recent experiences showed her that she should be distrustful of hot strangers, but around him, she didn't feel apprehension at all. Somehow, she was sure that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. So she stepped inside.

And when she looked around, her mouth fell open so abruptly that if she were a cartoon, she would have smash her jaw against the ground.

While from the outside it looked like a minuscule phone box, the interior was completely different. There was a huge control board in the middle with hundreds of buttons, levers and screens, and corridors that lead to other places deeper in the place. It was bigger than the common bedroom in the orphanage.

"Well?" he asked behind her, clearly pleased with her reaction.

"Well, it's...certainly bigger on the inside."

"Thank you," he said, sporting another of his shit-eating smirks.

"Okay, Alien King of Innuendo, let it go now." She narrowed her eyes at him and he only smirked wider, so she opted for changing subjects. "So, this is your space ship, right?"

"Yes," he said proudly, caressing a metal column. "It's a TARDIS. That stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. I call her the Jolly Roger sometimes. She's sexy, isn't she?"

'Sexy' wouldn't be the word she'd have used, but the ship was definitely impressive.

"Why'd you call it the Jolly Roger?"

Her eyebrows shot up when she noticed he was sending her a playful smile. "Well, Roger was the name of the man in charge of guarding the TARDISes. And the Gallifreyan wine always made him so jolly. That's what allowed me to steal her."

"You stole a spaceship?"

The Captain chuckled and shrugged, then his eyes were intense on her face again. "You're one to judge, love. You're also a thief."

Emma was petrified in shock as he voiced exactly what she had been thinking in that moment. "What? How did y-"

"I know what you're wondering. No, I did not read your thoughts. You're something of an open book, lass. And we are more similar than what you think."

Two thieves, two lonely people with no one else to turn to.

"Perhaps," she found herself saying.

"So," the Captain said after a few moments of silence, "do you want to come with me? See what's out there in all of time and space?"

Emma considered that crazy offer from that strange and very crazy man who wasn't even a real man, and what she'd be leaving behind if she took it. There wasn't a lot to ponder about, really, and she was well aware of that. The answer was extremely simple.

"Yes."

The Captain seemed genuinely pleased with her answer, as his blue eyes twinkled with joy and his scruffy face broke into yet another wide grin.

"Excellent. Welcome aboard..."

"Emma. Emma Swan."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. "Welcome aboard, Emma Swan. The Universe awaits us."


End file.
